Fallen Angel: Road to Redemption
by Chant99
Summary: After the crew has reunited, a stop-over on a commerce world where three species live in prosperous harmony brings a ghost from Chiana's not too distant past. The Nebari girl is compelled to leave Moya and hunt for the answers she finds she needs to have.
1. Forward

Author's Note:  
  
Welcome to part two in the "Fallen Angel" series. This is my first collaboration with writing a story with another writer so it's a new experience for me. The original "Fallen Angel" was meant to be a one-time deal as a story written outside my usual RPG genre so that other Farscape fans could follow it without having to have knowledge about my Role Playing Game with its extra characters and alternate universe.   
However, my co-author, Miss CheekyChi from ExquisiteIrony's Gigi Edgley fan page - the Gigi Enthusiasts Resource Service, read the original story after I posted it on EI's site and fell in love with the idea of Chiana and her Shrike assassin. She convinced me to write a follow-up story based on an idea she had and so with her help and input, the adventure of Chiana and Berret continues.  
Since then, I have posted my other RPG stories on FanFiction.net and found that other people have been enjoying them as well as the "Fallen Angel" series, which now also has two pre-sequels: "Nebari School Daze" and "When You Think You've Found Your God."  
Please keep in mind that the "Fallen Angel" version of Berret the assassin is meant to be a somewhat darker character then the one in the Farscape Epic RPG stories and the histories will eventually probably end up going in different directions. So in a sense, CheekyChi and I have created another alternate Farscape universe to play in.  
Also I would like every one to know I have made arrangements with Scottie R. Watson, the creator of the Chiana illustration that has been selling on Ebay, to create an original illustration of Chiana and Berret to go with the "Fallen Angel" series and "Farscape Epic RPG" stories I have been posting here. As soon as they are available they will be posted at the RPG for all those who care to stop in and look at them. There you will also find the information on how to contact Scottie if you wish to have your own RPG character or artwork done. There is currently an example of his work on our front page at the Farscape Epic RPG at Yahoo groups.  
CheekyChi and I thank everyone who's emailed us about the Fallen Angel stories and reviewed them. We hope you continue to enjoy them as much as we have fun with writing them.  
Enjoy!  
  
~Chant99~ 


	2. A Ghost That Haunts

The refreshment house was dark and smokey, just the way the Nebari girl like them. Anonymity was one of the attractions of dark dives like this one, the perfect atmosphere for a little fun, relaxation... and maybe a little snurching if the opportunity arose.  
Crichton looked around the establishment nervously, his eyes settling on the table of ten law enforcement personnel off to the left for what seemed like the hundred time. The group must have been off-duty judging by the way they drank and caroused like any of the other patrons surrounding them.  
"I dunno, Pip," John finally said. "I don't like the company we have here. I think it's too dangerous."  
Chiana gave him one of her trademark smirks. Scratch the snurching idea she mentally told herself, the human obviously wasn't in the mood to play along.  
"Blez out, Crichton. They're just the local police, not Peacekeepers. They don't know nothin' about us."  
"Yeah, but they're trained and supplied by Peacekeepers to enforce their laws. Grayza's liable to have sent wanted beacons this far out. The smart thing to do would be to gather up Sputnik and leave, pronto."  
"And miss all the fun of hiding out right under their noses?" Chiana asked with a wide grin. "And besides... who says we always do the smart thing?"   
The only thing that could make it a bigger coup would be to figure out a way to have the lawmen pay for their drinks, she thought to herself, her grin turned wicked.  
  
Crichton rolled his eyes seeing there would be no reasoning with the girl. Chiana had had a rough time of it during her time away from Moya and the relative safety of the group. Something traumatizing had happened to the young Nebari female that she was still unwilling to talk about and she often had periods of anger and reckless behavior. John hoped the side trip to the refreshment house she asked for would head off another of her tantrums.  
Now that Crichton thought about it, Chiana's strange behavior actually started to surface shortly before the crew went their separate ways for a while. There was that time on the last re-supply trip where she disappeared for a few solar days and they eventually picked her up in a planetary escape capsule after she commed Moya with her location. She refused to talk about where she'd been that time also. She'd returned bloody and bruised, but that occasionally happened to Chiana, though usually not as badly as she was this time. The girl had looked as if she been in an all-out-brawl and had come out on the losing end. John had thought that she had simply crashed the wrong rich man's party, gotten into her usual trouble and then stole the escape pod to get away. It must have been some party too, because what the human could see of her clothing, it was totally trashed and she was wrapped up in an expensive looking black cloak made of some type of heavy silk that was way too large for her. At the time he idly wondered if the garment was the only loot she managed to walk away with from that apparently luckless caper. Oddly, as far as he knew, she still had the cloak. She refused to let anyone else look at or touch the garment and had hid it away somewhere instead of selling it like she normally did with her booty.  
The only other out of place thing about the event to John's remembrance was that the air lock control panel on the escape ship appeared to have been destroyed by having something incredibly sharp rip through it. But in the Territories odd things were the norm. Still, it had taken Aeryn over half an arn to cut the craft's hatch off with a plasma torch, a chore which left the ex-Peacekeeper hot and sweaty with several minor burns from spitting molten metal. Afterwards, the Nebari girl's refusal to offer an explanation for her where-abouts didn't endear her to the Sebacean woman much.  
For the few shorts days they reminded together aboard Moya after that, Chiana was somewhat withdrawn at times and even when talking about her plans to go and find her brother, Nerri, she had a hint of edginess about her. Unfortunately, John was having his own problems coming to terms with Aeryn's decision to leave without him and he could spare the Nebari waif little thought.  
  
Chiana leaned back in her seat, pleased that she gotten her way in the debate with the human for the time being. John muttering to himself what a bad idea staying was under his breath, but not exactly insisting they leave, gave her an odd sense of satisfaction. It wasn't often she got her way with any of her crewmates.  
She liked spending time alone with Crichton. He seemed to be the only one of the crew who truly understood her. When it came time to talk about what had happen to her, she was sure he would be the one she'd seek out to unburden herself. She couldn't bring herself to do it yet, however. There was just too many mixed feelings about her time as a Syndicate prisoner under a death sentence and what had happen to her while she was out on her own searching for Nerri and the Nebari Résistance. The fact that the two events occurred so closely together in such a short span of time didn't help her sort out her thoughts much.  
The outing with Crichton was only marred by Sikozu's presence with them. Luckily, the red headed female seemed content to wander around the tavern, sticking her educated nose into other patron's conversations. Chiana snickered to herself secretly at the thought of one the aforementioned patrons taking a poke at girl's intrusive snout. It'd serve the snide tralk right.  
She glanced back over at her tablemate; John still wore a glum expression so she decided not to torment the man too much longer. She would do her best to stay out of trouble, enjoy their quick drinks, and then go. After all, she had gotten her way with the stop into the drinking hole. Why spoil the small triumph with an ugly scene at the end about when it was time to leave? She could be gracious when the mood suited her... and John was going out of his way to help her through her troubles without being intrusive until she was ready to talk about them. So she guessed she owed him at least that.  
She downed part of her glass of Raslek and was enjoying the warm feeling it gave her all the way down to her belly when she felt it - the fine hairs at the back of her neck standing up and feeling like they were charged with static electricity. "Oh frell! Not another attack!" she thought to herself in a moment of panic. They had been coming less and less often of late and she was hoping that eventually whatever was causing them would go away. She waited for the future to show her what it had in store and braced herself for the blindness she knew would follow. The vision didn't materialize, instead she felt her eyes being irresistibly drawn in the direction of the Inn's entrance... and the tall black-cloaked figure that was now making it's way across the tavern floor.   
  
The figure moved like a ghost. The dim lights and the hanging smoke in the place making it look surreal from where she sat. She kept waiting for the sound of footsteps to accompany the figure as it moved, but she knew that hearing them would be highly unlikely in the murmuring din of the refreshment house.   
For a split microt, Chiana suddenly found herself back in a damp cell. The sour smell of the unwashed bodies pressing down on her, the cruel laughter and the rough hands tearing at her clothes...   
The visualization made her breath hitch in her chest.  
"Pip? What is it?" asked Crichton with concern as she abruptly rose from her seat, almost as if in a trace.  
"Are you having another attack?" John went on to ask.   
Chiana didn't hear the apprehension in John's voice, her attention riveted on the black cloak... trying to make out the being's features through the bar's haze. The cloak's deep hood made the task even harder.   
"That cloak looks just like..." she said barely louder than a whisper. She cut the mental reflection off; lots of races still wore cloak-like garments. It didn't mean anything.  
The figure headed straight for the table of off-duty lawmen across the room from John and Chiana. As it neared the group, it reached up a hand and pulled down the cloak's hood. Chiana saw light glimmer off dark metal covering the back of the being's hand like a half-glove. She could at least make out that he was humanoid. The figure reminded her of...  
"No," she denied in a murmur.  
"Chi, for the last frellin' time... what's going on?" John insisted, his hand inching closer to Winnona.  
She squinted but could still not make out the man's face clearly from across the room. Suddenly the figure seemed to go through a kind of metamorphosis. The being seemed to flow from the surreal to the physical. Chiana then realized she appeared to be the only one paying attention to the cloaked apparition. Patrons startled in their seats and waitresses suddenly swerved to avoid colliding with the tall figure as if he'd abruptly appeared out of thin air. It was almost as if the figure had been invisible to everyone but her until it wished itself to be seen. Mesmerized, she watched as the group of off-duty police officers noticed the dark figure looming over them. All conversation at the table ceased unexpectedly.  
"What the frell do you want?" demanded one of the officers, the tone of his command voice cutting through the ruckus of the refreshment house. The huge room became silent as other conversations died as well.  
In response, the man threw back his cloak... exposing a pair of holstered auto-fire pulse pistols... and armor the color of gunmetal.   
"What the dren...?" started a female officer.  
The man drew both pistols and opened fire on the table in an ear-splitting roar of automatic pulse fire. Three of the unlucky men were taken still with their drinking glasses in their hands. The rapid-fire pulse bolts blowing them backwards out of their chairs and crashing into the wall behind them.   
In the flashing light of his guns, Chiana finally saw his face.  
  
"I-It can't be... it's not possible!" Chiana said to herself as the remaining cops went for their own weapons and what cover they could find.  
"Chiana! Get down!" cried Crichton as he kicked over their table and yanked the still standing girl down beside him behind the makeshift barricade. Winnona filled his hand. Screams filled the room as other patrons scrambled for safety away from the firefight. He hoped Sikozu was doing the same wherever she was in the room.  
"He's dead. I saw him... he's dead," Chiana muttered perplexed.   
"What the hell are you talking about?" John exclaimed as he peeked around the edge of their overturned table. The battle seemed to be limited between the cloaked man and the lawmen. Two more bodies lay with smoldering bolts holes through them. The remaining five returned fire but the cloaked figure dodged and ducked... picking them off one by one seemingly at will; the auto-guns eventually chewing through whatever piece of furniture an officer hid behind. The next three died in quick secession then one of the auto pistols fell silent as it ran out of Chakan oil, the weapon's rate of fire was so fast it could drained a standard Chakan cartridge in microts. The remaining two lawmen took that opportunity as their only chance to escape with their lives. Both rose from behind the overturned furniture at the same time. The closest man pointing his pulse pistol at his attacker, in a blur the cloaked man crossed the distance separating them. He swatted the pistol aside just as it went off, barely missing his head. In one motion, the attacker slammed his empty gun into the officer's face, blood spurted and facial bones cracked, and in the next instant he was beside the stunned lawman. One savage twist of armor covered arms and his neck broke audibly. The last policeman deciding it better to flee than share his comrades' fates, tried to duck down and dodge around the tall man. Crichton heard a metallic ringing sound and the cloaked man made a casual backhand swipe at the passing lawman without looking. There was a sound like ripping clothe and with a grunt the man fell to the floor dead - the back of his neck torn out. John could now see the pair of serrated blades protruding over the top of attacker's fist, originating from the man's gauntlet-like forearm brace. He flexed his hand and the blades slid back into their housing with a second evil hissing ring that sent a chill down his spine.  
"Holy freakin' shades of Predator," the human muttered.  
  
The killer paused a moment to survey the damage he wrought. Satisfied that all his opponents were dead he bent and picked up his empty pistol and holstered it. He turned and headed for the door, occasionally kicking a piece of broken furniture out of his way with an armored boot.  
Crichton was relieved to see the man leaving and glad he decided not to continue the killing spree with the rest of the customers hiding about the trashed tavern. He watch over one side of the table while Chiana, still muttering incoherently to herself, watch from the opposite side.   
"Just a few more steps and he'll be gone," John murmured to himself. Winnona was still in his sweating hand but somehow she was of little assurance after what he'd just seen.  
As luck would have it, Sikozu chose that moment to pop up from behind cover. John cursed as the cloaked man spun in her direction, his still charged pulse pistol leveling itself between her eyes.  
Sikozu swallowed hard as she realized her mistake in emerging from hiding too soon. Separated by less then a drec, her bright green eyes locked with the assassin's dead ones. The moment seemed to go on for cycles as she waited for the pulse blast that never came.  
"Shrike Enforcer," she murmured before she could stop herself. The man's attire gave him away easily to someone who had traveled Scarren space.  
The comment seemed to break the stalemate, the dead eyes blinked once and the man slowly lowered his weapon. Without further act or comment, the Enforcer turned and strode from the refreshment house.  
Crichton scrambled out from behind the table after the shattered door swung shut behind the cloaked man.  
"Of all the stupid..." he started to berate Sikozu. "Are you all right?" he finished instead.  
"I'm perfectly fine, Crichton," Sikozu replied somewhat testily. "Though my clothing is now dirty from crawling around on this disgustingly filthy floor."  
"You'll live," John shot back. "Pip? You okay?"  
"Yeah, John... I'm fine," Chiana said as she joined them, still looking as if in a daze.  
"What the frell was that?" he asked no one in particular.  
"I believe," Sikozu said in the tone of voice she used while lecturing her less intelligent crewmates, "That was a Syndicate Enforcer... an underworld assassin."  
John heaved a heavy sigh. "Great! Just our luck he chose here where we were to do a hit."  
Chiana had wandered toward the doorway with a look of bewilderment. John called her back.  
"Chi, get away from the door in case he decides to come back," he warned.  
Chiana shook her head. "That was 'Ret," she said quietly.  
"What?" asked Crichton, cocking his head in her direction to better hear her.  
"That was 'Ret... though it can't be. He's dead," she said louder. "I saw him die, John."  
"Ret? You mean you know that guy?" John asked incredibly.  
Chiana slowly nodded. "Berret... he was someone I met... while I was away from Moya."  
"Just how did you come to meet a Scarren Black Syndicate Enforcer?" Sikozu asked suspiciously.  
Chiana swallowed and began to shakily explain, "He's not... er, he was... but he's not anymore.  
It's too long to go into now... but he saved my life."  
Crichton thought a microt then turned to Sikozu asking, "If he's a Scarren assassin... why did he look Sebacean?"  
"The Syndicate mostly uses slaves with control collars as their Enforcers. He was probably captured somewhere and turned into a Shrike some time ago," answered the redheaded girl.  
"That would figure," said John. "Okay it should be safe enough for us to get the frell outta here now. Let's go before some of those cops buddies show up and start asking questions."  
Crichton led the way out but was stopped by a still troubled Chiana.  
"How can it be him?" she asked, hoping Crichton would have an answer or reasonable explanation for her. "Berret died saving me... I saw."  
"Look! I dunno, Chiana. Maybe he has a twin or it was a clone or something. Now's not the time to figure this out," the human told her. "Now we have to move and get our collective eema outta here!"  
"Yeah, a twin or a clone... that has ta be it," Chiana mumbled. She couldn't bring herself to believe that Berret was alive and well... and working for the Syndicate again.  
Crichton led the Nebari girl out by the arm with Sikozu following close behind. The streets outside were still in an uproar from the slaughter inside the refreshment house. Several witnesses were excitingly pointing out the direction the killer traveled in to other bystanders. Unfortunately they each claimed the suspect went in a different direction, and no two directions agreed with each other.   
The trio made it safely away from the area of disturbance and headed for the spaceport and their waiting Transport Pod.  
"One things for certain," John told Chiana after they were safely on their way to the port. "When we get back to Moya you're gonna tell us what happened to you out there... and how you met this assassin."  
  
Half an arn later the black-cloaked man found himself in the basement of a run-down trader's shop. Without hesitation he strode to a large crate parked against one of the basement walls and felt for the hidden latch. The side of the packing crate swung open to reveal a short staircase and another heavy door.  
The Shrike descended the stairs and passed through the door. Another dim corridor faced him and he traveled it, unconcerned about the hidden eyes he knew were watching him as he passed.  
He passed through several more rooms until he came to the one he wanted, without announcing himself he swept aside the dirty curtain that served the chamber as a door. Inside he found the being he'd come to see.  
The creature looked up from the papers it was reading. At seeing the Shrike, it set the papers down on a short table next to the cushions it was sitting on, it seemed to be expecting the assassin. The being sitting on the cushions was humanoid in size and basic body shape, it had mandibles protruding from along side its mouth and the many faceted gold eyes of an insect. The light gleamed off its hard exoskeleton as it moved.  
The Shrike moved closer to the creature, drawing both pulse pistols he held them out as if he were about to fire them again and then let them fall to the short table with a double thud. Wet blood left on the one pistol from the officer he'd smashed in the face before killing, splattered the insect man's paperwork. The being seemed non-pulsed by the act or the mess it left.  
"Did you accomplish it?" the humanoid-like insect asked in an oddly clicking voice that issued from its translator device. The oval shaped translator hung from a chain around what passed for the insectiod's neck.  
"I did as you instructed," replied the assassin in an emotionless tone.  
"You killed all of them?"  
"All eight plus two others who were with them."  
The creature rose to its feet in the quick scurrying manner the species had. The Shrike recognized its mandibles move into the position that the Zem'Fury insectiods used in place of a smile.  
"Excellent!" it cried in an excited chitter, "We've struck a blow for freedom for my people! This is indeed a cause for celebration. Our hive-brothers are avenged with the execution of their murderers."  
The Zem'Fury noticed the Shrike's still bank expression. It scuttled in a half-circled around the tall assassin as it regarded him.  
"What's the matter, my friend? You should be joyous about the deed you accomplished today. Justice has been served."  
The man who called himself Berret slightly turned his head to gaze at the insect being with half-dead eyes.  
"Where should there be joy in gunning down half-drunken men no matter what their crimes?" he asked. "And why the public eradication? The same purpose would have been served if they were eradicated in a more quiet manner and setting."   
"But the establishment wouldn't have gotten the message as clearly that we will no longer accept the brutality or the countless murders of my people at the hands of their overseers. That message has to be clear or it will do no good - we will not take it any longer, and that we will fight for our rights as free creatures." The being tilted its head and worked its mandibles as if in deep thought. "Are you having second thoughts about your promise to help in our cause?" it asked after a moment.  
Berret thought a few microts. "No," he finally said. "I'm just questioning some of your methods. It doesn't seem likely that you will gain public support for your cause if we continue to endanger innocent bystanders in our operations." Unbidden, the young redheaded girl he'd almost shot came to mind.  
"These are extreme times for our struggle. Those eight men and women beat and then executed three hive-brothers simply for being out after curfew. Their punishment was just as swift and as public," replied the Zem'Fury. "My people are oppressed. Regulated almost to the status of slaves with no rights or protections. We perform the labors that are too dangerous or that no one else wants too... while the Eilaans and their Roentgen dogs reap the benefits."  
Berret's usually passive face developed into a deep frown. He'd hear variations of the story dozens of times before. The Zem'Fury performed most of the hazardous jobs around the trade city. For their efforts and sacrifices they were treated as less then second-class citizens. Many sections of the city were off limits to them and the murder of one of the hive barely raised an eyebrow among the upper classes. The Eilaan were the humanoid species on the planet that shared power with the Roentgen, who were an unusual species. They were large for the most part, almost as tall as Luxans with tough skin that had the texture of tree bark. Berret believed they were floral based like Delvians. They also had horn-like thorns that protruded from their bodies in mostly random locations as a sort of natural defense. From what the Shrike could learn, the Zem'Fury and the Roentgen had a long history of violence between their peoples.  
"You can see we have no other choice but to fight back," the insectiods said, breaking Berret out of his thoughts.  
"Yes, I understand," the Shrike responded. "You are correct. No one should live as a slave to another being."  
The answer seemed to satisfy the Zem'Fury. "I'm pleased that you still agree with us."  
Berret nodded. "If you have nothing more... I will return to my quarters now."  
The insectiods dismissed the assassin. As the curtain slid closed behind the Shrike, another one opened and a second Zem'Fury scurried into the room. It's exoskeleton lightly clicking.  
"I do not like this," the second insectiod said. The second being waved its arms, clicked its mandibles, and released certain minuet scents into the air to communicate with its leader. "What will happen if the Shrike learns what our real agenda is?"  
"I do not think that is a concern," replied the first Zem'Fury from its cushion seat after it turned its translator off. "The assassin believes he is fighting for a noble cause. His hatred for those who had enslaved him makes him blind to anything else. As long as he thinks he's helping end other's slavery... he will be compliant to our requests."   
"Still," hissed the other, "He could be dangerous to us if he found out."  
"If that looks as if it might be a problem, I suppose we could arrange for him to be caught by the Eilaan and Roentgen. I suppose they would very much like to get their hands on the killer of their ten law officers."  
The second Zem'Fury worked its mandibles furiously. "I hope you're right... for all our sakes."  
  
Berret entered his spartan room and threw his cloak on the bed. As soon as he'd closed the door behind him a wave of exhaustion swept over him. He held up both arms in front of him and with a thought both biomechanical braces released their hold on his forearms. He tossed both pieces of armor with their hidden blades onto the bed besides his cloak. He slowly removed the rest of his armor and it seemed to him that the protective plates had become heavier and heavier each time he donned them. After he removed everything except his armored boots he made his way over to his washstand and splashed cold water in his face. He glanced up into the reflective surface behind the stand and saw a haggard countenance staring back at him.  
The dark circles under his eyes seemed to grow darker everyday - "too much death" he told himself.  
A mild pain flared in his mid-section reminding him that he's been neglecting to feed the microbes. Today's operation had only required enhanced speed to dodge the pulse bolts fired at him, so he concluded they could wait awhile longer until he got around to finding something suitable to eat.  
He ran one hand through his raggedly cut dark hair. The long braid he'd originally had having become a causality of his miraculous escape from Arckatius' estate. After Chiana's escape pod had lunched and the Syndicate men had broken into the pod chamber, a stray pulse bolt had ignited one of the fuel storage tanks. Berret's tough Acquarian silk cloak, armor, and the fact that he was able to roll up against one of the steel support braces for the chamber saved him from being burned alive like the Syndicate men when the tank blew. He was able to leave the escape chamber with little more injuries then scorched hair and a few minor burns. Shortly thereafter, the second fuel supply tank exploded which caused a massive fire in the crime lord's fortress-like home. In the confusion he managed to make it to the hanger and steal a Wraith class ship and get away.  
The whole series of events had been a freak act of nature. He fully expected to die there in the escape pod chamber, now here he was... free, but still killing at someone else's bidding. Was he really free then?  
If the Nebari girl were here, she could probably tell him. It had been awhile since he thought about the girl. He use to wonder constantly if she made it back to her friends. After joining the Zem'Fury cause he'd had little time to spare thinking about the Nebari female. Lately she'd been reduced to the occasion flash of dark eyes in-between bloody nightmares. He thought about her haunting voice and realized he'd not felt that odd feeling of... pleasure... he got when she softly sang for him from inside her cell since that time.  
There was something missing he realized suddenly. His life was still full of fighting and killing... but no beauty. Maybe a cause wasn't worth fighting for without something to off balance the violence.  
Berret sighed to himself. "The girl... the girl..." he thought, she probably hadn't thought about him once since her get away... and why should she? She was a thief and he was a Syndicate Enforcer who merely shared a common goal of escape at the time. Even if he could find her again... for what purpose? What could he ask of her? He was what the Syndicate made him... a proficient killer. He was good at it and he could only hope that he'd chosen the right cause to put his talents to use.  
He turned and swept his equipment off his bed and flopped down on the sagging mattress. He closed his eyes and tried to push all further thoughts out of his head. Somehow, those dark eyes kept creeping up on him whenever he let his guard down. 


	3. Wherever You Will Go

One sixth of a cycle later...  
  
Chiana sighed and gazed out the large port windows of the center chamber. Sitting on the bay seats where Crichton so often sat to think, she looked out over Moya's massive back but the stars still held no answers for her. It had been sixty-two solar days since her, Sikozu, and John witnessed the attack in the refreshment house. The theory that the Shrike was a twin or a clone no longer satisfied her, she was sure the man had been Berret. The only explanation she could come up with herself was that Berret had been recaptured instead of being killed. Now re-collared, he was enforcing for the Black Syndicate once again.  
The others had grilled her mercilessly about her first meeting with Berret. She gave them as little information as possible and she absolutely refused to talk about anything else that had happened to her in her time away from the Leviathan. Aeryn and Rygel reacted badly to the news that Berret had been an Enforcer and D'argo hissed angrily, Luxans having an intense hatred of assassins. Sikozu lectured the group about her knowledge of Shrikes, while to her annoyance; Noranti kept interrupting to insert little known facts about the ancient Shrike warriors whose name the Syndicate stole for their assassins. The group fell into such heated debates among themselves that they didn't notice when Chiana got up and left the room... preferring to be by herself with her thoughts for awhile. John found her later and told her it was for the best that the assassin hadn't noticed her, as he might have been reprogrammed to kill her on sight. Anyway, the point was moot as they were heading away from that commerce planet and the more distance they put between them and this Berret, the better for all concerned.  
Chiana found over the next few days she couldn't settle for that. Her thoughts kept turning back to Berret.  
After almost a sixth of a cycle, he was all she could think about. She would rather have seen him dead then a slave to the Syndicate again. His time for freedom had been so short lived she anguished.   
After a time her thoughts would come full circle and she'd be back to wondering if it really was him at all that she saw. It was getting to the point where she had to find out for sure or drive herself insane.  
Idly, to give herself something to do, she began to plan her trip to find Berret. Knowing the others would never willing let her go, she prepared in secret. Choosing a seldom-used Transport Pod, she slowly stocked it with food and water. Every once in a while, she brought the occasional item of spare clothing aboard and stowed it away out of sight. Aeryn routinely kept all the Pods equipped with spare weapons so there was no worry there. She'd originally meant the activity just to keep her mind busy; she had no idea how she could get away without the others eventually catching up to her. There was no way a Transport Pod could out run Aeryn's Prowler or D'argo's ship.  
Oddly enough, things took one more step to working out in her direction. Moya was now traveling back through the same system. They would be in Transport Pod range of the planet for another two solar days still. That left her only with her one big problem... how to keep the others from coming after her and dragging her back? She needed a distraction, but she couldn't think of a single thing that would work long enough.  
She set her head back down on her arms and went back to gazing out the window and put her mind to the problem some more.   
  
The Goddess smiled on her the next day... well, sort of. She got her distraction in a big way.  
"Peacekeepers!" Pilot's alarmed voice rang from every holo-comm on every tier.  
"Where?" Aeryn's voice shot back.  
Pilot's arms flailed at his controls in the hologram a microt before he answered.  
"Astern... 500 microts out," he reported. "Three Marauders. Closing fast."  
Without thinking further, Chiana bolted from her quarters and sprinted toward the hanger bay.  
"Pilot! Get ready for immediate Starburst," Crichton ordered.   
"Moya is charging calorics now... Starburst in 200 microts."  
"Shake it up, Pilot," John added nervously.  
The time crawled by as the crew watched the Marauders grow closer to Moya on the holo-display tank. Finally Moya began to pulse with building energy.  
"I hate these cold start-ups," grumbled the Luxan, "They always seem to take forever."  
"Hold on to your shorts, Darg... we're about ready to get outta here," John quipped.  
Pilot flickered back into life on the holo-comm.  
"Twenty-five microts to Starburst," he announced. "... Twenty microts to Starburst."  
"I hate Starburst," Rygel grumbled as he grabbed onto a control panel for support.   
Pilot cut short his countdown suddenly, "Commander? Somebody has just launched a Transport Pod from landing bay one."   
"What?" the group as a whole exclaimed.  
"A Pod has been launched and is now drifting just outside of Moya without power," Pilot replied.  
"Frell!" swore Aeryn. "Can we snag it and drag it along behind us through Starburst?"  
"No, it is outside Moya's Starburst field at the moment."  
"Who the hell can it be?" asked Crichton, "Can Moya reposition herself to bring it into the field?"  
Pilot shook his massive head. "No, Starburst in seven microts. It's too late to abort... Moya must go or cause herself irreparable damage."  
"Damn it!" John swore while banging a fist on a control pedestal.  
"I wager it's that Sikozu bitch," griped the Hynerian. "She jumped ship to betray us to the Peacekeepers. I never trusted her for a microt!"  
Before anyone could reply, the lights and control panels dimmed, the front view screen flared into the brilliance of Starburst... and Moya and her crew where somewhere else.   
  
From the drifting Pod, Chiana watched the Leviathan become a living creature of light and then fold herself into the fabric of space-time. The light nearly blinded her naked eyes but it was wondrous thing to behold. As she was faced with the sudden emptiness of space, her heart froze for an instant as what she had done fully hit her. She'd just willing ran away from the only safe home she'd ever known... again. She began to panic slightly as the thought hit her and she wrapped the solar blanket tighter around herself as she sat in the shuttle's cabin. The temperature slowly dropping as the ship cooled toward absolute zero.  
She reminded herself that she made her choice and now she would have to deal with the consequences.  
She sat quietly in the dark watching the place where Moya had been, slowly counting off the remaining 300 microts. Just as she reached zero, she saw them coming. The three Peacekeeper Marauders thundered by her, keeping course with Moya's Starburst vector, hoping to pick the Leviathan transport up on scanners sectors away when she came out of Starburst. Chiana let out a pent up breath, as the PK ships didn't detect her powered down Pod as they passed. She gave them a couple hundred more microts to get out of immediate sensor range and then slowly began to power up the craft. She was glad to finally have the heat back on and when the Pod reached full power she laid in a course for the commence planet where she saw Berret and set the autopilot.  
She realized that Berret or the assassin that looked like Berret might not even be still on the planet. Even so she thought she might be able to learn enough to follow him to his next destination. Failing that, she knew where she'd originally found him... though she didn't relish the though of returning to that world to look for him in the least. She leaned back in the pilot's chair and let her thoughts roam.  
She wondered again at what the urgency was to find him. Yes, she owed him her life and she did feel a little responsible for him, but this was so unlike her. She wouldn't normally put herself on the line for anyone... especially someone she barely knew. The image of Crichton before he left for the Gammak base came to her. When she had tried to thank John the only way she knew how, he'd stopped her and told her when she found someone else in need to "pass it on." She told herself that's what she was doing... passing it on. Normally lying wasn't a difficult thing for her; she could usually do it with a straight face and be believed most of the time. It was hard to do it to yourself though.  
Frowning, she had to admit there were also the dreams she'd been having. She had never seen the Shrike without his armor, but she dreamed of his body pressed up against her. Of his lips sucking greedily at hers as they drove each other wild with pleasure. Those rough dangerous hands gently holding her body.  
On waking the dreams seemed somewhat silly, as the one time she kissed him on impulse during their escape from the Syndicate, it left the man stunned and mystified. She could hardly believe the man knew nothing about something so simple as kissing... but she also found it oddly intriguing. She thought educating the man could be highly interesting. Still, she'd had the dreams many times over the last few weekens and they left her aching... not only in her body, but also in her heart a bit. She supposed that it could be just her missing D'argo, but Jool seemed to have most of his attention now. Anyway, she realized and accepted that there could be no going back for her and the Luxan warrior.  
She pushed the thought of the erotic dreams from her mind, at least for the moment. Right now she needed to start thinking about a plan of action before she arrived on the commerce planet. If Berret was alive and back with the Syndicate, she had to think of a way to rescue him again... without getting killed in the process. Or worse yet, getting killed by him in the process. If he were hiring himself out as an assassin, she'd have to find him and talk him out of it. Especially seeing she was sure that if the Syndicate got wind of what he was up too, they would come looking for him with a vengeance. So many possible angles, she felt it was going to be impossible to plan for most of them, let alone all of them. She got herself out a writing pad and started to jot down scenarios and her possible solutions so she could easily keep track of them. You never knew what could be helpful later. One grim scenario raised its ugly head and perplexed, Chiana tapped her writing stylus against one cheek as she struggled to think of a possible solution.  
"What would Aeryn do?" she muttered out loud. Sometimes that helped.  
  
Berret paused inside the lobby of the central government affairs offices and sighed inwardly. Eilaan people on their own urgent errands moved automatically around the tall Shrike without noticing him. He stepped off to one side to a drinking fountain and bent to use it. This had been the sixth eradication of an Eilaan official in the last two months. The man he had just killed in his tiny cubbyhole-like office in the basement levels of the building had been in charge of public housing for the Zem'Fury mine workers. Why the bookish little man had to die was somewhat of a mystery to the Shrike. He seemed relatively unimportant as far as government officials go; still the Zem'Fury cell leader had insisted that the fellow be taken out.  
Try as he might, Berret could see no tactical logic to the operations that he was asked to carry out for the rebellion, then again he also knew little about running a resistance cell. He assumed there had to be a reason for what he was asked to do. The eight police officers he killed he understood if they were guilty of illegally executing Zem'Fury workers for simply being in a restricted area of the city after curfew. The evil should be punished for their crimes... the Scarren Syndicate had made him a firm believer in that philosophy. The rest of the eradications made no discernable sense to the assassin. He saw no clue as to how they should fit together and helped further the cause to free the Zem'Fury from their persecution. The Zem'Fury never told him much at all about what results their work produced or whether they were making headway or loosing ground in their fight. He would report to the cell leader and then return to his single room quarters in the hide-away after killing one Eilaan or another, no one would speak to him for a few solar days and then one day the insectiod leader would appear with a new name and another lethal request. The only thing he was sure about was that they seemed to be doing a very good job of throwing the ruling assembly into chaos, security was getting tighter and it was becoming more difficult to get to certain targets the cell leader picked. He was actually surprised at the ease of this last assignment. Then again, the victim was practically a nobody in the government hierarchy. The only thing remotely impressive about him or his job was where his office was located. Still, even with the stricter security measures, it was easy for the Shrike to slip in and out with the busy flow of humanoid traffic. He sighed more deeply and rubbed at his eyes, trying to ignore the gnawing pain from the microbes demanding to be fed again. He casually exited the building, wearing civilian clothing he blended in with most of the Eilaan population as long as none of them looked too closely at him. His skin wasn't quite the right tone and most Eilaan had purple eyes, not blue like his. Still it was a universal constant that busy people involved in their own affairs paid little attention to what was going on around them.  
  
He allowed himself to relax slightly once he was away from the scene of the assassination. He headed a few streets over toward a vast market place with the intension of picking up some foodstuffs. The supplies the Zem'Fury stocked at the hide away where poorly suited to his metabolism and the microbes' demands had started to become worse as time wore on. The Zem'Fury leader insisted that he remain hidden as much as possible to avoid detection, and not leave their headquarters whenever he was not out on an operation. The precaution seemed a wise one to Berret, but it left him with little or no opportunity to stock up on the proper food items for humanoids... and it also gave him little contact or news from the outside world. Without a translator, he was unable to communicate with a majority of the Zem'Fury rebels except for the cell leader and occasionally his second in command. An insectiod he labeled Swirl because of the slight whirl of discoloration on his exoskeleton. The Zem'Fury didn't use normal names among outsiders as their true names consisted of mandible clicks, limb positions, and scents. They never offered him any names so the leader was simply "the leader" and Swirl was "Swirl" to Berret. There was little point in assigning names to any of the others as he had little to do with them. They didn't seem to be interested in learning his name either. Or rather, the name he called himself, as Berret still knew nothing about his past other then his time with the Syndicate. The collar seemed to have wiped out who he was before becoming an Enforcer.   
The Zem'Fury referred to him as "The Shrike" or "Shrike" through the translator, though the leader would sometime call him "friend" while speaking directly to him. He did learn the name in Zem'Fury speech they called him was produced by lifting one arm while clenching the fingers, or what passed for fingers on a Zem'Fury, into a fist accompanied with two mandible clicks followed by a small slashing motion with the arm. Not much of a name, but he guessed that the Zem'Fury didn't have a set word pattern for Syndicate Enforcer in their language. It also eluded Berret to as what sex an individual Zem'Fury was, or even if their species was separated by any sexual classifications.   
  
Several marked patrol vehicles sped by a few microts later heading for the building Berret had just left, the drone of the sirens breaking him out of his roaming thoughts. It seemed the body had been found already. He continued his unhurried stroll through the market place and suddenly the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He was positive he was being followed.  
He stopped to nonchalantly look in several shop windows, using the reflection to scan the crowds behind him. He was use to the clumsy methods the Zem'Fury rebels used when they tailed him on assignments but this was something different. Whoever this was, it left him with the hint of something professional... though he could see no signs of whoever it might be. He frowned to himself; the Eilaan or Roentgen would simply grab him and not play spy games if they suspected him of wrongdoing. Peacekeepers then? The police force could have called for help from the PKs. But that led back to the same reasoning then, why not just capture him if that were the case. "The Syndicate?" he thought next. That would be more likely, they might have tracked him down and sent another Shrike to bring him back... or eradicate him, which was the more probable rationalization to the feeling of being watched.   
Either way, it was a new game. He dared not lead whoever it was back to the rebel hideout. He moved on through the market place heading for the shop he normally bought his supplies at, not wanting to arouse his shadow's suspicions should this not be the first time they followed him. Given enough time, his tail would make a mistake and reveal himself to the ex-Enforcer. If it were another Shrike, he would have to move fast and attack without warning if he wanted to defeat him. He was at a serious disadvantage without armor or suitable weapons for dealing with a Syndicate assassin at the time. Surprise would be his only edge and he would have to use it effectively. If it was an Enforcer and the Syndicate had found him, and he survived the confrontation, he would have to leave the commerce world quickly despite his promise to help the Zem'Fury. His subconscious began to plan his escape from the planet as he entered the shop.   
Somewhere behind him, he could feel the eyes on his back.  
  
Chiana congratulated herself. She'd only been planet side a mere two solar days and she'd already located Berret. She'd originally expected the search to at least take her the better part of a weeken before she turned a lead up. She pushed aside the thought that it had been sheer luck that she ran across him while searching the market square for a suitable place to eat. She looked up from reading a refreshment house's daily menu and there he was crossing the street opposite her. Her eyes seemed to have been naturally drawn to him like a magnet. She pulled her dark scarf tighter over her head to conceal her white hair as she walked, keeping parallel to the tall assassin across the busy street. She was sure it was Berret and she sighed in relief as she discovered that he wore no control collar again, his neck being visible because of his Eilaan clothing. Berret strolled casually along as if he hadn't a care in the world. At one point he stopped in front of a huge glass window. Other people wouldn't have noticed but Chiana instantly detected the slight stiffening and tension in his back. The telltale give away that he was aware he was being followed. She knew he was using the glass to scan the crowd behind him and she fought the urge to dash across the street and reveal herself. For a moment she had the brief image of her hurling herself into his welcoming arms. But she realistically knew that there was little likelihood of that happening. He would probably be shocked to see her but she doubted that his greeting would be anywhere near an emotional one. The Shrike probably had not given her a second thought since escaping the Scarren kingpin's stronghold. She decided the best way to proceed would be to observe Berret for awhile just to be sure he wasn't being controlled somehow and then approach him cautiously. It occurred to her not for the first time that he might not be happy to see her again or want a reunion with her.  
She rolled her eyes at herself as she realized she was hyper-analyzing everything again. For all appearances, Berret seemed to be a normal person out shopping... not at all like anyone under someone else's control or an assassin looking for a target. She began to feel better about the thought of approaching him. Who's to say that Berret wouldn't be interested in seeing her again? Anyway, after what they went through together, you'd think she'd have the right to see how he getting along since the escape.  
Berret entered a store and Chiana took the opportunity to cross the street. She milled about in front of the place appearing to inspect the produce in the outside bins while she watched Berret through the shop's big windows. The man walked up and down the isles picking out various items. When he was finished he brought them over to the counter and paid for them. Chiana noticed he used the commerce world's own type of paper currency rather that universal Peacekeeper credit chips. Berret was maintaining a low profile by not paying with credit chips that might give someone a cause to notice and remember him. However, the paper currency would be of no use to him if he suddenly had to jump planet and run. She hoped he was smart enough to keep a ready stash of credit chips handy on his person in case of just such an emergency. The clerk expertly packaged his goods after he paid for them and handed them back to the assassin.   
Berret then headed for a side door on the opposite side of the building from where Chiana was standing and headed down the side street.  
She scurried around the produce bins and then struggled through the crowds moving along the street in front of the shop. She made the corner in time to see Berret's back a block and a half away, the Shrike was moving at a fairly fast pace. He made a right turn and disappeared from her sight again.   
  
Chiana flat out ran down the street, her scarf sliding backwards nearly off her head before she caught it and pulled it back in place. The long dark gray coat she wore slapped at her lower legs as she ran. Her palm pulse pistol threaten to jump out of the loop holster on her hip so she had to finish the run with one hand keeping the weapon in place.  
She slowed down just before she got to the point she judge Berret had made his turn at. Instead of another street it turned out to be a garbage littered alleyway. The Nebari peered down the narrow dimly lit lane but could not see the end of it due to all the debris and abandoned ground vehicles, furniture, and appliances there.  
"Alleys... I hate following people into alleys," she muttered to herself. "Unless its one I picked out for a reason before hand," she mentally added.  
Having no other choice but to follow, she cautiously entered the passage. She cat-footed around the larger objects while trying to avoid stepping on any of the other trash that would make noise and give her away. She quickly lost sight of the street she came off of and she could no longer hear the bustle of the market. She eased her way around a large trash bin and was suddenly startled to find Berret's package of groceries sitting in plain view in the middle of the alley.  
Bewildered, she looked about the constricted lane but saw no clue as to where Berret had gone.  
Almost too late she felt the slight change in air pressure, something big was falling on her from above.  
Chiana automatically hit the ground, tucked and rolled. She groaned inwardly as she felt the pistol slide free from its loose loop holster and clatter off somewhere into the trash-strewn alley with her roll. Behind her, Berret hit the ground where she had been a split microt before. The vicious flying blade-kick meant for her head slamming into the trash bin instead. Metal groaned and dented from the impact of the ex-Enforcer's foot. The Shrike growled a low curse and spun to meet Chiana as she rolled to her feet. The girl didn't even have time to catch her breath or speak before Berret seemed to move toward her like a runaway Transport Pod - the man was incredibly fast!   
Her instincts took over and saved her again. Without her thinking about it, her leg muscles coiled and launched her over the top of the oncoming Shrike in a high somersault. Berret's fist went on to smash into a wooden crate and demolished it.  
Chiana came down from her aerial maneuver and landed slightly off. An empty can caught her heel and rolled, causing her to stumble as she tried to regain her balance. The mishap cost her dearly, allowing the assassin enough time to turn and seize his prey. Steel-hard fingers dug painfully into her shoulder and she suddenly felt herself being hurled into the brick wall of the building behind her. She struck hard and for an instant saw stars. When her vision cleared, she looked up and saw the silently snarling face of Berret mere henta from her own, his eyes glinting eerie silver in the dim alley light from the microbe augmentation.   
Out of the corner of her eye she saw his right hand cock back, his hand and fingers held stiff and board straight as he prepared to slam the hard edge of his palm against her temple... killing her instantly.  
  
"BERRET! STOP!" she managed to cry out before the blow fell. The Shrike held her so that her body pinned her right hand behind her against the wall, with her free left hand she franticly clawed at her scarf, pulling it off her head so he could clearly see her face. She didn't know that her voice alone was enough to give him pause. "Its me! Chiana!" she finished.  
Even in a half-scream that voice was enough to make him hesitate. The voice that had sung to him in Arckatius' makeshift dungeon... the voice that had called to him in desperation from her cell, the voice that gave him the will to break free of the collar.  
"Chiana?" he rasped, his throat suddenly gone dry. Still there was a hint of disbelieve in the rusty tone.  
"Yeah, it me," she replied uneasily, Berret was still poised to kill.  
The Shrike tilted his head to one side. His silver tinted eyes making him look more alien... more animal-like then she remembered. In the full light of Arckatius' headquarters they had been pale blue... like ancient ice. She remembered him telling her that the microbes were capable of altering his vision in low or bright light... or sometimes when in combat, enabling him to focus sharper and faster on a target. She did her best to relax in his iron hold and waited to see what he'd do next. Absentmindedly, she thought this was as far from the open-armed welcome she imagined as she could possibly get.  
Berret leaned in close to her and inhaled deeply. She knew that he was using his heightened senses to positively identify her. Another thing that made him seem more animal-like. Up this close she could also see how haggard he looked compared to when she last saw him. He had been neglecting himself somehow.  
Berret withdrew slightly and loosened his hold on the girl. His microbe-augmented sense of smell wasn't as acute as a Luxan's but he recalled the Nebari woman's scent very well. The only time he'd seen her, her face had been badly bruised from her beating at the hands of the bounty hunters, but this was truly her. He clearly remembered the way she smelled from when they embraced just before he shoved her into the escape capsule. Despite the look of unease and slight fear on her healed face, she was more beautiful then he had ever imagined.  
"You're alive," he said, still not willing to believe that she was actually there.  
"Yeah... surprise, so are you!" she replied nervously as she slowly moved away from the building wall she had been pinned against.  
"Didn't you make it back to your friends?" Berret next asked. Chiana nodded her head in the affirmative. "Then what are you doing here?"  
Chiana started to feel more relaxed as the silver slowly faded from Berret's eyes, making him look more normal.  
"I came to find you?" she told him.  
Berret actually took a step backwards in befuddlement. "Why?" he asked confused and bewildered.  
Chiana told him about being in the refreshment house that day with Crichton and Sikozu.   
Berret vividly recalled that instant with Chiana's crewmate. The fear in her bright green eyes, the weigh of the pistol in his hand, the feel of the trigger against his fingertip, the ugly voice in the back of his mind urging him to squeeze just a little harder on it... because what was one more sin to him?   
In slow motion he saw the girl's thin lips move, then he heard her voice naming him for what he was. The hated label silencing the itching voice in his head, he was able to ease off the trigger and lower the pistol before he succumbed to the urge.   
Berret suddenly wasn't sure how he felt about Chiana witnessing him like that.  
The Nebari girl went on then to relate the months of heavy thinking she did and her decision to search for him despite the possible danger.  
She wasn't sure what to expect but she thought Berret would at least be touched by her attempt to find him. Instead he surprised her by abruptly saying,  
"You have to go back. You must leave here now."  
"What?" Chiana sputtered, "I came all this way..."  
"You can't stay!" Berret cut her off.  
Chiana's dark eyebrows knitted together, somewhere between confusion and anger. Her black lips grew tight together like a flower bud as she prepared to debate him. "Who did he think he was?" she thought.  
"There is a... 'civil war' coming here," Berret tried to explain. He was so hesitate that Chiana was sure that he didn't quite understand what was going on himself. "It won't be safe for you here," he added.  
"Whatever's going on here... If you're part of it, I can help," she offered.  
Berret shook his head looking even uneasier then before.   
"You don't have the 'talent' for what needs to be done."   
With that statement, Chiana was now sure that Berret had been responsible for all the other deaths she'd been hearing about since she landed. The whole port was in an uproar and they had searched her and her Transport Pod more thoroughly this time than the first time she was there with Crichton. Whatever Berret was mixed up in, she had the feeling that something wasn't right about it. The trouble was that Berret didn't have the life experience to see that as clearly as she did.  
"You have to return to your friends," Berret said, bringing her out of her deliberation.  
"That's going to be a problem," she answered.  
"What do you mean?"  
"Don't you see..." said Chiana. For the first time she felt sure enough of their relationship to actually reach out and touch him. She lightly stroked his face. "I can't go back... I don't know where they are," she told him.  
Berret stared back at her puzzled both at the contact and the comment.   
"There was really nothing there for me anymore so I left. I left them to go find you... it was all I could think about for so long after I saw you and knew you were alive."  
Berret mouth worked but nothing came out, he was totally speechless. This had the hint of a confession, something he should know about with all his time as a Syndicate Enforcer. He'd certainly wrung enough of them out of countless beings for the Scarren crime lord.  
"Moya, Crichton, and the others, are gone," she continued as her hand gently caressed his cheek. Something no one had ever done before. The feeling was becoming disorienting to the assassin, but strangely he didn't want her to stop.   
"I came to be with you," Chiana finally told him.   
If there had been a chair behind him, Berret would have let himself fall into it. Now he truly didn't know what he should do.  
  
Reluctantly he moved away from her so her warm hand wouldn't distract him from his train of thought.  
"You came all the way back here," he repeated, " To be with me?"  
Chiana nodded. "It seemed like something I hadda do," she told him.  
Berret shook his head. "There are dangerous times coming here. The conflict here is escalating."   
"Dangerous times?" Chiana asked with a questioning tilt of her head. "What the frell are you taking about? I've been here two days and I haven't seen any signs of a conflict."  
"One of the three classes of beings who reside on this world is being oppressed by the other two," the Shrike attempted to explain. "They are little more then slaves... just as I was."  
"Who? Which class of people?" Chiana inquired. "I haven't seen any signs of it."  
Berret faltered. He knew the Zem'Fury rebels would not be pleased to learn of Chiana's arrival and search for him. They would be even less so if he gave out information to the Nebari girl.  
"I can't tell you," Berret replied, "Its better if you just forget about me and leave."  
The girl wasn't having anything to do with that suggestion. She took hold of Berret's upper arm to stop him from saying anything more. Stepping around in front of him, the tilt of her head increased and her eyes and tone of voice grew more serious.  
"Hey! Its me," she exclaimed with Nebari stubbornness, "You can trust me."  
The woman barely came up to his chest, but the determination in those dark eyes told Berret that it would be easier to move a mountain then dissuade the Nebari girl. Somewhere in the back of his mind he found it mildly amusing that a thief was telling an assassin he could trust her.  
Knowing there would be no budging Chiana until he told her, Berret uneasily gave in.  
"It's the Zem'Fury."  
Chiana's head bobbed slightly in surprise and her eyes widened a touch.  
"The Bug people?" she said, a small ironic smile lit her face.  
Berret quickly outlined the Zem'Fury grievances and the wrongs that had been done to them. He touched as lightly as he could on his activities for the rebellion. As he talked the smile slowly fell from the gray girl's face. Even with just the bare basic information, the story didn't click with what she herself had observed.  
Her finely honed instincts were telling her something wasn't right and the sudden chill she got up her spring-like Nebari spine told her it wasn't right in a big way. She'd always had a certain talent for detecting scams or cons and right then she had the feeling she might have walked into one that was over her head.  
When Berret was finished. She reached for his closest hand, hoping that physical contact would help her reason with the man. She knew he wasn't going to like what she had to say.  
" 'Ret, listen to me," she started. "Something isn't right here. There's no civil war coming to this commerce world. I think these Zem'Fury are using you..."  
"You don't understand," he cut her off.  
"Trust me, I do understand... more then you know."  
"They are slaves!" he snapped. "You have no idea what that's like."  
"I do..." she began once again.  
Berret tore his hand out of hers. "No! You don't," he said in a hard voice. "You have been a prisoner, not a slave. You don't know what's its like to have someone else decide your fate, to be owned by someone else and have no control over your own life. You haven't see the things I have seen... or done the things I was made to do..." The Shrike suddenly stopped speaking as if realizing he made a mistake.  
"Are you talking about them... or are you talking about you?" Chiana mildly asked.  
Berret turned away unwilling to met her eyes.  
"I do understand whether you believe me or not," she continued, "Living on Nebari Prime taught me all I need to know about what its like to be a slave with no freedom or will of your own."  
Berret realized that he knew next to nothing about Chiana's prior life before meeting him. It had been uncalled for him to accuse her of not understanding.  
He turned back to face her, still not quite meeting her eyes, he nodded, "My apologizes. I had no right to speak that way to you."   
"Its all right," she told him. "I've had people say worse things to me."  
He finally looked up to meet her gaze. "You still have to go," he repeated.  
"I'll go, if you come with me," she countered.  
"I can't."  
"Why not?"  
"I made a promise."  
"Break it," she told him.  
Berret looked at her and shook his head. "I can't do that either," he said, "Not unless my life or freedom depended on it... maybe not even then," he added after he had a chance to think more about it. "If I broke my word... I'd be no better then the Syndicate.  
"Is it worth your freedom... or your life?" she exclaimed.  
Berret shook his head in refusal; he wasn't about to change his mind that easily.   
"Why?" Chiana asked, looking as if the weight of the entire planet had suddenly settled on her slim shoulders. Her pretty face grew darkly serious again. "Listen, 'Ret. These people wouldn't keep a promise to you if they had to," she explained. "Let's just forget about them and go... just the two of us. I can take you away from here and show you things you never knew existed. Some of the places I've been are so beautiful ... and the people so exciting. We can go on an adventure and live off our wits... or find a nice quiet place to lay low for a while until we don't want to anymore, and then go off and raise holy hezmana. There's a whole big universe out there and it can be ours for the taking. You just have to want to."  
Berret suddenly found himself having some doubts about his decision. Chiana spoke with such zest and enthusiasm about what she described. He wasn't sure if it was her words or the thought of going off with her he found so alluring. Still, he'd given his word and chose a side in the Zem'Fury conflict. People had died at his hand. How could he justify walking away now?  
She could tell by the look on his face that he was finally faltering in his stance. The doubts were showing.  
"Chiana, I..." he began.  
She cut him off before he could start gathering his thoughts and debate her further. She reached up and touched his cheek again, a dirty trick she knew because the Shrike still wasn't use to intimate contact, but at this point all was fair as far as she was concerned. Berret's eyelids fluttered for just a microt and she thought he might have made a small involuntary sigh but couldn't be sure, either way she knew her touch had the desired effect on the man - he stopped trying to think for a micron.   
She gently ran her had down the side of his face to his collar-scarred neck. When she got to his shoulder, she gripped it firmly and shook him once to get his attention again. Sometimes you had to do that with males, distract them one microt and grab them by the mivonks the next.  
"Listen," she said, "Let's get out of this alley and go somewhere quiet to talk. Give me just a few arns and I'll prove to you something's not right here. You can give me that much, can't cha?"  
Berret pondered what to do. Chiana was insistent in her views and her desire to convince him. He was also keenly aware of the passing time. The Zem'Fury would soon begin to wonder where he was, and should they decide to come looking and find him with the Nebari girl, he was sure there would be trouble.  
"All right, Chiana. We will go somewhere and talk as you wish," he said. At least that way he could get the girl out of sight if she refused to leave his company. "I don't want to rent a room here in the town as the Zem'Fury might have an informant on the rooming house staff. It would be ill if they found out you were here searching for me."  
"No problem, I have the perfect place for a quiet talk," the girl responded. "The room service is frelled but the privacy can't be beat."  
"Very well. Let's go then."  
She stopped the Shrike from walking away by placing a hand against his chest.  
"One more thing," she said firmly, "We deal."  
Berret lifted one eyebrow to indicate he hadn't the slightest idea of what she was getting at.   
"The deal is... I prove to you you've been lied too," she told him, "... you leave here with me. No more questions, no more debates. You trust me to take you away from here."  
Berret thought the proposal over and it sounded reasonable. He agreed, but countered,  
"If you don't prove what you claim to me, then you agree to leave and find your friends."  
Chiana's full lips drew into a tight straight line as she considered the counter offer.  
"Sounds fair enough... for now," she finally said, "Deal."  
Before Berret could say anything more, she turned and after retrieving her weapon, led the way out of the alley.  
The Shrike found that he didn't like the way Chiana had added the "for now" onto her accord to the pact.  
He turned on a heel and followed her from the alley, letting her guide him to this quiet place they could talk. While they walked to their destination, Berret told her about how he managed to escape from Arckatius' headquarters. Half an arn later, they arrived back at her Transport Pod. 


	4. Shades of Gray

Chiana secured the transport's main hatch behind her. Berret looked around the craft, it was much larger then his Wraith, which actually was stored not to far away in a private berth. The Shrike thought it best to hide the stolen ship from prying eyes. A Wraith-class craft was essentially a Peacekeeper three-man surveillance vessel. Larger than a Prowler but smaller than a Marauder or Transport Pod, the ship was packed with high-gain electronic surveillance equipment and a stealth system that rendered the craft invisible to scans and other detection sensors. The wings, which tilted up and back for landings, held deployable sensor sails used while in surveillance mode. Arckatius had found the ship useful for spying on other Syndicate houses and had the craft's weapon's systems modified to include a pair of multi-barreled pulse cannon that rotated at a high rate as they fired. In the belly of the Wraith was also a missile rack that held up to twelve missiles depending on the type. Berret had yet to drop the rack into firing position to verify and see what the ship was armed with, checking the weapon systems' computer only told him that there were seven missiles in the launching rack but he didn't recognize the code for the type they were. Luckily, Berret's DNA had been programmed into the Wraith's A.I. computer, allowing him access to the ship and enabling him to steal it for his get-away. He knew Arckatius would be keen to recover the craft and its lack of military Peacekeeper markings would make it stand out if he'd left it parked in an opened landing bay, so he rented an enclosed one for it.  
  
"There. All safe and private now," said Chiana as she walked around him and into the Pod's pilot cabin. Off to the right was the access-way that led to the ship's cargo hold. Straight ahead of him and across from the main hatch was a small kitchenette and what looked like a cramped living area for the crew while on long transport runs. Berret supposed it was just as good as renting a room, and cheaper, assuming Chiana had already paid the port's landing berth fee.  
The Nebari woman shrugged out of her long coat and unwound the scarf from around her head. She tossed them into the pilot's seat and turned to face Berret, an easy smile graced her delicate features.  
"Go on and take your coat off," she told him, "Make yourself comfortable."  
Berret set down his retrieved bundle of groceries and slipped off his jacket. Chiana took the opportunity to apprise the man while he removed the garment and found a place to hang it up out of the way. She found he didn't look anywhere near as massive without the scale-like armor on, in fact he looked kind of... normal, she concluded.  
Berret was as tall as Crichton though of somewhat slimmer build. She knew that the appearance was deceiving as Berret could very easily break a man of Crichton's size in two if he was of a mind too with the microbe augmentation. However, she also knew that performing such a feat would cost him. The microbes over-driving his muscles and tearing them, the stress possibly snapping bone, which the microorganisms would then have to rush and repair the damage they caused to Berret's body. The demand for raw material would be immense on the Shrike's system. Berret would have to eat a large quantity of high protein food to pacify the need or the microbes would start ripping what they required from less important areas of his body. The military application of the illegal microbes became apparent - keep the war machine going for as long as possible, no matter what the cost.  
Despite the unseen alterations, she found she was pleased with the way he looked without the armor. He wasn't overly handsome but he was pleasant to look at. His eyes were that ice blue once again and he had nice cheekbones and strong, but not overbearing features. She noticed that his long braid was now gone and that his raggedly cut dark hair could use a trim to straighten it up. While his relatively passive face showed no emotion at the microt, there was a hint of wariness around the corners of his eyes that again led her to suspect that Berret wasn't taking proper care of his special needs with the microbes. She tabled that observation for the moment. When she got him away from this world she was sure it would be a simple matter for her to correct the problem.  
Her eyes quickly travel over the rest of his body. He was on the lean side for sure but she knew from the few times that she touched him in the alley that his muscles were well toned. They'd probably have to be to bear the constant weight of the armor even with the augmentation. All in all, compared to the usual radical type of males she was attracted to... he was just, well, average.  
She couldn't quite figure out why she was so drawn to the ex-Enforcer.  
She moved closer to him with a nervous smile. Berret stood there in place and when she was close enough that the tall man was forced to look down at her, his lips tightened into a straight line as he waited for her to say something further.  
Chiana found herself wanting to kiss those lips and wrap her arms around him now that she had him alone.  
Her hot Nebari passion that was so repressed by her people on her homeworld rearing itself until she was forced to seize control of the urge and beat it back down into submission. When it came to physical pleasure she was use to taking what she wanted, but with Berret she instinctively knew that her aggressiveness would confuse the man. Time was the key with the Shrike... time and patience.  
Right now the important thing was to get him out of the situation he was now in.  
She broke eye contact while letting out a tense little giggle to hide her moment of weakness.  
After a quick moment to compose herself, she looked back up at Berret and asked,  
"Would you like something to drink?"  
  
As Chiana removed her coat, Berret saw that she had replaced her old ruined outfit that she'd had when she was captured by the Syndicate with one that appeared to be almost like leather armor itself. Though it clung to her and hugged her lithe body like no armor ever did. The outfit left her upper arms and midriff bare except for a black see-through body suit of some sort. Berret had seen the girl wearing considerably less after he had killed the Syndicate men bent on raping her, for some reason the Nebari's cool gray skin hadn't registered on him like it was now. He had simply handed her his cloak when it became apparent that she would not be able to fix her torn clothing well enough to attempt an escape. He supposed it was the danger of the moment that kept him from noticing then, now alone with her in the Transport Pod he found himself becoming uneasy in her presence.  
He fumbled around to find a place to hang his coat at her invitation. Afterwards as she approached him he discovered the unease turning to nervousness. She glided up so close to him that he imagined he could feel the heat radiate from her small body. She was so close to him now that she had to look up at him through the untamed bangs of her snow-white hair. For a microt Berret sensed something wild in the black eyes that gazed up at him. Her mouth parted questionly as she tilted her head ever so slightly to regard him.  
The Shrike suddenly though she would find something about him wanting with her close inspection, and he felt his own lips press tightly together in apprehension.  
Something predatory passed through Chiana's eyes in that instant and something deep inside Berret tried to answer her unspoken challenge. Cycles of wearing the collar had conditioned him to hide and suppress whatever feelings might arise and give away his intent to an opponent... or target. His face remained blank but his focus moved to her glossy black lips. He wanted her to pressed them against his again like she had before... he wanted her to kiss him again. He wanted to seize the initiative, to make a preemptive strike, and kiss her before she could move away.  
In the next instant Berret strangled the desire as surely as he had killed countless beings. Chiana had first kissed him because she was happy about a slim chance for them to escape Arckatius' stronghold. Since then, Berret had observed enough humanoid couples to know that the contact also had a deeper meaning.  
What he had just wanted was the deeper of the two, something he dare not ask of the Nebari woman.  
Thief though she may be, he had been around enough true evil in his time to be able to recognize a basically good soul - a soul such as Chiana possessed. That fact that the girl given up everything she had to rush off to save him when she perceived he was in danger had more then proven that.  
The girl deserved much better then what life had dealt her; he couldn't add more misery to it by asking her to feel something for him. Even if the girl felt what she thought she did for him, he wasn't sure he'd be able to learn how to give her what she needed back. He'd been too long under the collar... committed too many atrocities; to be sure he could learn to truly feel again. Besides he told himself, it was only a matter of time before Chiana opened her eyes and saw him for what he really was. When she had killed, it had been in self-defense. When he killed, it was usually murder. The sooner she realized it, the better for the both of them. All this passed through his mind in mere microts, his face revealed none of his heavy contemplation to the Nebari girl standing in front of him. He pushed the thoughts and feelings aside. Thinking or acting upon them would do no good. It was just another score to settle with Arckatius and the Syndicate when the proper time came.   
Chiana unexpectedly broke the spell by looking off to one side for a microt, a little pleasant giggle fluttered from those lips he so desperately wanted a micron ago. When she looked back at him her eyes seemed more normal, less intense then they were a moment before.  
"Would you like something to drink?" she asked.  
Berret shook his head. "No, thank you," he replied politely, perhaps more politely then necessary to cover his flash of debility.  
Chiana either didn't notice or she chose not to notice.  
"Then let's go into the living compartment," she said. "I need the holo-viewer there to start to show you what I'm talking about when I said the Zem'Fury have been lying to you."  
Berret consented and followed her into the confined quarters amidships.   
  
Chiana was glad to have something to occupy her mind with beside the proximity of the Shrike.  
She keyed the holo-viewer build into the small room's all-purpose table over to another of the local channels.  
"You see? The Zem'Fury's section of the city is just as clean and well maintained as the Eilaan's and the Roentgen's sections. There aren't any slums for any of the races co-habiting here. This commerce port is one of the most prosperous I have ever seen. It's a snurcher's paradise. All the citizens seem to live comfortably here."  
Berret had to admit; the Zem'Fury rebels had allowed him to see little of the entire city since recruiting him. "How can you be sure the local stations just are not showing the slum areas?"  
Chiana rolled her eyes. "I already showed you what the Pod's flight recorder recorded of the city when I landed... there are no slums here."  
"What about the restricted areas?"  
"There are areas of the city restricted to each species. The Zem'Fury have areas of their own that the Eilaan and the Roentgen are not allowed to enter. It's sort of a buffer zone, giving each race a private place of their own to go to. Makes sense to me," she explained. "We've already accessed the central library and learned that there are strict regulations and guidelines established for all working areas. There hasn't been a single work related fatality, let alone an injury, in almost three cycles here... of any of the three groups."  
Berret's mouth turned down in a frown. The couple had been forced to use the lower bunk as a couch while they watched the viewer in the restricted living space. At least the news reports and the discussion were able to keep his mind off the closeness of the gray girl.  
"News reports and library records can be manipulated," he told her.  
"Frell it, 'Ret! Open your eyes," Chiana said in slight frustration. She grabbed up the viewer remote and flipped back through several news report clippings. "Look! None of these 'operations' you've carried out for the rebels makes any sense. There's no reason to them except one... shock value."  
She glanced over at the man beside her to see if he was following her.  
"I know a little something about revolution... and this is not the way to run one. Whatever your friends are up to it's not a fight for freedom."  
She could tell by the thoughtful look on Berret's face she was beginning to reach him.  
Chiana flipped to a more current news clipping.  
"And this... this was you too, wasn't it?"  
Berret looked up and saw the face of the Eilaan he had eradicated that afternoon. He found he didn't want to admit the killing to the gray woman. Chiana pressed on, ignoring the look of guilt that was developing on her companion's face. Now was not the time to back off on him if she wanted to win him over.  
"This one makes sense only if you look at it a certain way," she explained. "It wasn't who he was that they had you kill him... its where he was. A central government building with tight security."  
She paused a moment to give her next words the desired impact.  
"They're proving something to someone. That they're not safe anywhere and that they can get to them no matter where they are."  
She turned off the holo-viewer and let the remote fall to the bed.  
"This is not a rebellion... it's terrorism."  
  
The Nebari woman waited and gave the man a chance to digest what she'd just said.  
Berret's usually passive face darkened considerably as he turned her argument over in his mind.  
Now was the time to start talking some sense into Berret, but in a very careful way. She knew that he was going to have trouble accepting the knowledge that he'd been used once again for a malevolent purpose.  
She placed one hand lightly on his chest, feeling the slow beat of his heart.  
"Its not your fault. They tricked you," she told him.  
He looked back at her, his eyes hard to read for the moment.  
"If what you say is true, who else is to blame?" he asked. "I did those things for them."  
Chiana rolled over closer to him. Her own suppressed fury showing through. How dare these bugs hide under the cover of being revolutionaries... a mantle her brother Nerri proudly wore and sacrificed everything for. She'd be damned to hezmana if she was going to let Berret shoulder the blame for what was happening here.  
"The Zem'Fury rebels... I blame the Zem'Fury," she said in a hard tone. "You were doing what you thought was just, and they used that against you."  
Chiana's ire had taken Berret aback. She realized she wasn't helping her cause by becoming overly emotional so she calmed herself before going on.  
"You can't... you can't take the blame here. At least not all of it," she said to him. She picked at a piece of lint at his wrap-around shirt. It seemed only natural when her hand slid in-between the wraps and came to rest on his bare chest underneath. "Goddess, his skin is so warm," she thought idly in passing. Berret didn't seem to notice so she left the hand there as she continued talking.  
"These 'rebels' have to be held responsible for whatever their game is. You were what Crichton calls 'a pawn'," she said.  
"A pawn?" Berret repeated, trying to ignore that hand that was causally stroking his chest.  
"A small game piece in a very complicated game," Chiana explained.  
Thinking about what the girl was telling him, Berret become conscious of the fact that he wasn't uneasy anymore of her closeness. It seemed natural to be having this discussion with her laying this near him.  
With the trials they've already shared it seemed illogical to be nervous of her and he knew that she only had his best interest at heart.  
She propped herself over him on one elbow so she could look down at his face.  
"You've had a hard life... and you may have done some wrong things... but you're not a bad person," she told him. Without being aware of it, their faces were drawing closer together.  
"How can you be certain?" Berret asked almost in a whisper back.  
"I just am," she got out just as their lips touched.  
This time Berret was prepared for the kiss, but unsure of what to do he let Chiana take the lead.  
The Nebari girl mentally kicked herself for letting things get carried away faster then she had planned.   
Still Berret seemed to be handling it just fine and taking his cues from her.  
"Slow...slow..." she thought to herself over and over again as she made herself more comfortable against him.  
  
Chiana stirred in her sleep beside him and Berret became immediately alert. The Shrike didn't know what to think. He'd unexpectedly gotten the kiss from the Nebari that he wanted... in fact he had gotten quite a few kisses from Chiana before they both tried of alternately kissing and talking and had fallen asleep. He cursed himself for letting it go that far. It would just make it harder for the girl to come to her senses about him later. He wasn't fooling himself either; it was going to make it harder for him to let her go when the time came also. At times he felt as if Chiana were restraining herself, which helped him do the same. He wasn't experienced but he understood the concept of the mating ritual and he was glad it didn't get that far.  
The girl had made a good argument except for one fact. She had been unable to explain why the Eilaan law enforcement officers had killed the three hive-brothers they found in a restricted area. Arrest should have been good enough if that were simply the case. They'd only managed to find a small article about the killings just after it had happened and the authorities were just starting their investigation. After that there was nothing in the news reports. Almost as if the entire incident had been covered up. That is what made Berret suspicious about the validity of the rest of the news articles and library records. If the Eilaan could cover up one instance of police brutality, why not others?  
Chiana had raised some very good questions but he believed she didn't quite have the whole picture seeing she'd just been planet side for barely three solar days. The only way to find out for sure what was going on would be to return to the rebel headquarters and dig out the actual truth for himself. He'd gone too far and killed to many to just turn around and walk away like nothing ever happened.  
The Nebari with her survivor mentality wouldn't understand the need he had to know for sure... and maybe set what he could of things to right. The stubborn girl was going to be a problem but one he thought he could deal with as long as he could keep her and the Zem'Fury rebels apart for the time being. She hadn't exactly proven her point to him, but she'd left him with enough doubts and new questions that he felt it would be unfair at this time to ask the girl to honor their bargain and leave to find her friends again.  
The arn had gotten later then he realized and he knew there would be questions to answer when he returned to the hide-away. Right now, his problem was getting away from the Nebari girl who was peacefully sleeping beside him without waking her. He was relatively sure she wouldn't let him return to the rebel headquarters now.  
Chiana murmured in her sleep as he gently probed along the side of her neck until he felt the artery fluttering just under the warm gray skin. He gradually pressed to restrict the blood flow and held it long enough to put the girl into a deeper sleep. When he was sure she wouldn't awaken, he untangled himself from her arms and left the bunk. Finding his jacket again he slipped back into it, gathered his supplies, and left the Pod, making sure the hatch was locked behind him. Sticking to the shadows as much as possible to avoid detection, he left the spaceport and headed back to the abandon storefront.  
Chiana would most likely be angry with him for leaving like he did, but he was seriously thinking now that maybe regardless of what the real story was, he might tell the Zem'Fury he was finished helping them and leave with the girl. It might be good for him to spent some time with the Nebari... at least until it came time for them to part ways. But for the moment, now that he knew she was here, he was positive he could avoid meeting her on the streets until he was finished with what he had to do and was ready to do so.  
  
He made it back to the abandoned storefront without incident. Just as he expected, the rebel leader and Swirl were waiting for him in the first set of rooms off the dark corridor. He had no doubt that the hidden sentries placed out in the long murky hallway had informed their commander of his return.  
"Where have you been?" inquired the insectiod leader.  
"Yes, account for your whereabouts," demanded Swirl with a hard snap of his mandibles.  
The electronic voices that issued from both Zem'Fury's translators were virtually identical. However the polite questions from the leader contrasted darkly with the challenging tones from Swirl's device.  
Berret set aside his supplies and wondered if he were ever going to get a chance to put them away before they spoiled. He purposely ignored Swirl and his demands, directing his response to the leader.  
"I was detained by a personal matter," he replied. "There was no problem with the operation."  
The Zem'Fury leader clicked his mandibles. "We are aware of your success," the translator said. "What we do not know is... who was the Nebari female you met with?"  
Berret cursed inside but dared not show a reaction on his face. He wasn't sure how well the Zem'Fury could read humanoid expressions, but taking into consideration that they lived on a world they shared with two other humanoid life forms... he was willing to wager they were adapt at it.  
"She is a business acquaintance of mine," he answered, hoping that would satisfy the rebel.  
"Oh?" clicked out the device around the leader's neck. Both Zem'Fury glanced at each other and exchanged hand and arm gestures briefly. "If she is an acquaintance?" the head insectiod asked after he turned back to the ex-Enforcer, "Why did she appear to be following you discreetly for some time?   
Berret felt like swearing out loud. The rebels had more eyes on the streets then he had taken into account.  
"And why the short conflict between the two of you in the alley way?" Swirl added from his own translator. At that point, Berret just assumed they knew everything and hastily constructed a cover story as best he could.  
"There was a 'misunderstanding' about a prior... assignment, and some missing funds," said Berret. "She followed me for a short time before approaching me because she knew we had not yet concluded this manner between us. After we settled our differences she inquired if I would be interested in a new assignment."  
The Zem'Fury looked a little unsure of the explanation. Swirl uncertainly shuffled one leg.  
"What?" asked the Shrike after they didn't say anything. "You believed I always offered my services for free? A just cause doesn't always put food in my belly, clothing on my back, or fuel in my ship. I have to make a living someway, do I not?"  
The leader bobbed his head in agreement. "That had not occurred to us," he admitted.  
Swirl didn't seem that convinced. It was hard for Berret to gage exactly what was going on behind those alien eyes.  
"Just what kind of work did she offer you?" asked the second in command.  
Berret glared at him. "That... is none of your business," he said in a hard tone.  
"What did you tell her of your purpose here?" asked the leader. Berret let a cold smile grace his face.  
"Nothing. That... is none of her business," he replied.  
The pair of Zem'Fury carried on a conversation between themselves that lasted a few microns. Berret found himself wishing he knew what they were talking about - did they buy his explanation?   
The rebel leader finally turned back to face him a few moments later.  
"She knows nothing about your association with us?" he asked.  
"No."  
"You're certain?"  
"Yes, I'm certain."  
The insectiod paused for a microt. His mandibles clicked idly together as he thought.   
"May I ask, my friend," the translator said for him, "how you responded to her offer?"  
Berret was wondering when that question would come up.  
"I told her I'd think the matter over," answered the Shrike, "And that I might consider the new assignment after I was finished with the current one here." The Zem'Fury seemed to be waiting for something more. "I gave you my word," Berret added a moment later.  
The leader began to bob his insect-like head in agreement.  
"You did. I'm glad our arrangement has not changed, as we need your help desperately," he told the ex-Enforcer. "I will send someone to make sure the Nebari does not interfere further in our plans."  
"No!" replied Berret a little too strongly. He realized his error and toned down his voice in the next instant. "Neither you nor your people will not interfere with the Nebari woman. She is my responsibility and I will see to her should something need to be done. This is my personal business and I want neither her or your people to interact."  
Swirl's exoskeleton rattled in irritation.  
"She could be dangerous to our cause if she discovered..." the second started to say.  
"This is not negotiable!" shout the Shrike. "This woman is worth an substantial income to me later and unless you are going to start paying me for my services..." he glared at both insectiods, "You will leave her alone... or I will alter our arrangement... into one you will not find as pleasant as the current one."  
The pair of Zem'Fury actually appeared taken aback by the assassin's outburst. They were not use to the normally inert Shrike becoming agitated.  
"We understand," mollified the leader, "Forgive us, we meant no harm. It shall be as you request. None with bother the Nebari woman."  
"Thank you," said Berret as he picked up his supplies and moved around them to head to his quarters.  
"It is also for your own protection that I ask," he added before stepping through the next doorway. "She also is a skilled assassin. And she can sometimes become... uncontrollable, if she perceives she's being threatened." He turned and left before they could ask further questions. It had been a gamble adding that last part. He'd hoped that the Zem'Fury would take him at his word and stay as far from Chiana as possible now, believing that the Shrike was keeping her in the dark about their relationship and that she might fly into a killing frenzy should she manage to catch them following her. On the other hand, they might try and kill her first in fear now, but he hoped that his threat to retaliate might be enough to keep them in check until he was able to learn the truth about their agenda. Once inside his room with the door closed he let out a pent up breath. He hoped that he had pulled off the ruse and bought himself enough time. He had an odd urge to cross two of his fingers but he had no idea where it came from or why he should want to do it.  
He ignored the strange compulsion and went to his sink for a drink of water. He caught himself in the looking glass mounted on the wall behind it. He felt strangely different, but looked the same. He could still smell Chiana on his clothing... and even stranger still; he could almost still feel her lips on his.  
  
Several arns later, Chiana pleasantly murmured to herself as she rose toward full consciousness. She snuggled against her pillow and her free hand wandered out over the cool sheets, it didn't stop until it reached the edge of the small bunk. Her dark eyes snapped open in the next instant.  
"Retty?" she asked out loud.  
When no one answered her call, she sat up and found her wrist chron - it was now morning.  
She kicked off the light blanket and padded out to the front of the Transport Pod in her stocking feet.  
" 'Ret?" she called once again. She then discovered she was totally alone in the craft. Berret's bag of supplies and his jacket were gone from where they had been the night before.  
"FRELL!" the Nebari girl yelled as she picked up a nearby tool and flung it against a bulkhead in frustration. "Frell, frell, frell... FRELL!" She almost reached for another object to throw but decided it wasn't worth having to pick it up later. She settled for a good tantrum instead.  
"Goddess damn him!" she cursed. "That stubborn... miserable... ungrateful..." She spun and spied the pilot's seat and decided to give it a good kick, using it in place of Berret. She remembered too late that she hadn't put on her boots.  
"Owwww!" she cried, and then started swearing in Luxan as she danced around in place on one foot.  
Eventually the pain in her toes subsided. She wiggled the digits as a test to see if anything was broken and found she was still able to stand on the recently abused limb.  
"Okay," she said while blowing a wayward strand of hair out of her eyes. "This... is getting me nowhere." She thought about what just happened and rolled her eyes. "Yotz! I'm turning into Crichton here," she muttered.   
She let herself settle into the pilot's seat and began to think. She was positive she convinced Berret last night that the Zem'Fury rebels where something other then what they claimed to be. She'd show him every thread of evidence she could come up with and wrapped them all up in a nice tidy package. She was even proud of herself that she didn't have to resort to most of her usual tricks to sway him... only the Shrike obviously hadn't stayed swayed. Maybe she should have allowed what Crichton would call "hanky-panky" to have started sooner... not that they did much hankying last night... and there had absolutely been no panky.   
She involuntarily let a small chuckle as she idly thought it was usually her sneaking away in the middle of the night and not the male. So why did 'Ret leave her? Did he go to retrieve some possessions and he would be returning shortly to her? If that was the reason, then why take the food if he was coming back?   
She leaned back in the seat and sighed. She wanted to believe that Berret had simply left on an errand, but she had to face the fact that she knew too little about the man to say what he would do for sure.  
If she didn't have these strange feelings for him, she had half a mind to dust-off right then and there and leave him behind. "Well, its not gonna be that easy, Retty. Not by a frelling long shot," she thought to herself. "I didn't go through all this and give everything up... just so you could kiss and run. I found you once, I can find you again." Chiana let her mind wander over the subject for a few more moments and then a darker thought occurred to her. What if Berret did believe her about the Zem'Fury and deep down it didn't matter to him? What if he'd grown to like the killing? She knew how addictive the thrill of excitement could be. Some of the most infamous murderers in history had done it simply for the thrill.  
"He's not like that," she murmured to herself the next instant. Refusing to believe that the person who had held her so tenderly last night would enjoy causing others' deaths. There had to be another reason.  
The opposite end of the analysis struck her in the next moment. What if he did believe her and had gone to kill the Zem'Fury rebels in retribution? What if he failed and they killed him instead?  
The thought froze her blue Nebari blood.  
"Dren," she muttered as she rose from the chair and headed aft to finish dressing. 


	5. Out on the Hunt

Chiana's first order of business was to find clothing that would fit in with the local apparel.  
Just outside the port was a clothing vender that she rushed to and hastily purchases several items of wear.  
It annoyed her that she paid full price for clothes. Usually it was easier to snurch what she needed or haggle over the price at least a little. Not having the luxury of time to plan a successful heist or barter with the clerks, she threw what they ask for to them in Peacekeeper credits and took her new things back to the Pod.  
She sorted through the items and assembled a reasonable facsimile of Eliaan clothing. Her smaller frame required her to purchase several things in large children sizes. She wasn't too comfortable with the traditional Eliaan wrap-around shirts, so she dug through the clothing she'd stored aboard the transport and came up with one of the zipper-up under-shirts that she'd "borrowed" from Aeryn. The garment fit her only a little loosely and it help with the slight draftiness of the Eilaan shirt. Idly she thought that if she'd sewn hidden pockets into the baggy outer garment it would be perfect for snurching expeditions. However, as it was, she was able to tuck her palm pulse pistol inside the shirt and it hid it quite well.  
She briefly though about dying her hair from its bright white to a darker color, then discarded the idea.  
It would take too much of her time and be too much of an aggravation to get out again. Besides there was no quick way to hide her gray skin so she would be marked as an alien no matter what she did. The whole concept of the local clothing was to make her stand out a little less than normal. Eventually she settled for trapping her wild locks under a dark scarf and tying it tightly around her head, then adding one of the floppy sun hats that the Eliaan women sometimes wore.  
She checked herself in the mirror in the Pod's head. The scarf changed the normal outline shape of her head and the brim of the hat produced just enough shadow to make her natural pale complexion less notable. It wouldn't pass close inspection, but she didn't plan on getting that close to her quarry. If she could find Berret, she would tail him from a distance until he led her back to the Zem'Fury rebels' hide out.  
Once she had its location, she could do her own digging into what they were up to, or if worse came to worse... she could use the knowledge to blackmail the Shrike into forgetting about the rebels and coming with her. All's fair in gambling, love, and snurching she thought.  
  
The Nebari woman spent most of the day wandering the markets and the street where she first saw Berret the day before. She didn't think she'd run into him there again and he was bound now not to use the same shop he bought his supplies at if he was going to try and avoid her. She stopped in at several refreshment houses and listened in to the talk there. Much of it was about the recent rash of murders, but she learned nothing she already didn't know from the news reports. Chiana gave up trying to pick up a lead by eavesdropping on conversations in bars; she couldn't even ask any questions without knowing exactly what she hoped to find out.  
She mentally reviewed the news reports and decided her best bet would be to investigate the incident that stood out most in her mind as being odd - the killing of the three Zem'Fury workers by the police force and the lack of information on it after the initial news summery.  
  
She pulled up the location of the deaths from her hand-comp and then found public transportation to take her to that part of the city.  
When the Nebari arrived, she found she wasn't able to get to the exact spot as it was on the outskirts of the Eilaan -only zone of the city. It appeared that only Eliaans could enter the area and even off-world visitors were keep out of the sanctuary. From the holograms, she knew she was close-by the spot but she couldn't see it from where she was allowed to go. Something told her, there might be an answer in where the deaths happened.  
Chiana gazed around the area as she tried to come up with options. She had just disregarded the idea of getting make-up and attempting to pass off as an Eilaan, when her eyes fell on the building in front of her - it was a very tall building. And it overlooked the Eilaan sector.  
"Ah! Just what I need," she murmured with a smile.  
A quarter arn later, the Nebari girl was on the rooftop with the building's maintenance man, a middle-aged Eilaan who seemed to welcome the interruption of his boring job by a pretty female.  
"Your city is so beautiful," Chiana gushed while snapping several holo-photos of the scenery.  
"We have many beautiful things here," the maintenance man replied, his eyes freely roaming over Chiana's body. The gray girl turned and gave him a dazzling smile.  
"Oww, what's that over there?" she asked innocently as she pointed across to the Eilaan sector. Up this high she easily found the spot where the Zem'Fury were killed. It was in front of a rather unique structure.  
The Nebari pointed the building out.  
"Oh, that," replied the man, as he squinted his eyes to better see what she was interested in. "That's the Eilaan Freestead."  
"Oh, Freestead," cooed Chiana as she snapped multiple pictures of the building and its surrounding area.  
"What exactly is that? It's very pretty."  
The Eilaan maintenance worker scratched at his cheek and looked as if he were slightly embarrassed to be talking about the Freestead to a stranger.  
"It's a place where Eilaan couples go when they wish to have children," he finally explained.  
"Like a pleasure house?" Chiana asked innocently, trying to appear a little dimwitted to the man. "How romantic."  
The Eilaan chuckled, "No, it's not like that. You see, our population is strictly controlled. Our reproductive systems are placed in status when we are born. To have children a married couple must first get permission from the state and then a blessing from a priest. Once that is done, the couple goes to a Freestead and the status is terminated so the couple can reproduce. The Freestead also serves as a medical center for woman with child. It's a very important part of a Eilaan community."  
Chiana cocked her head as the man explained. "How very... efficient," she said when he was done. "I love the architecture of the building. Any chance of getting a closer look at it?"  
"Oh, no," said the Eilaan as he held both hands up, "Its in the Eilaan free zone and only Eilaan's are allowed to approach or enter it. They are very well guarded, as they are the center of Eilaan social society. Without them our race would be in dire straits."  
"Why?" asked Chiana. "Can't you just turn off the status fields and breed the normal way without all the ceremony?"  
The man looked very uncomfortable with that question. Chiana gave him another smile and gazed at him sweetly - as if she hung on every word he was saying.  
"Well, you see..." he finally relented. "It not that simple with our people, only one in three Eilaan woman is compatible with one in three Eilaan men. Eilaan's have a third chromosome in their genetic make up. You either have an M, nO, or an Ap chromosome. Only couples with like third chromosomes are allowed to have children. Unlike chromosome couples are allowed to marry but cannot have children. If they wish children they have to find a surrogate partner with a compatible gene to do so."  
"What happens if they try anyway?" the Nebari asked.   
"The results... are not pleasant," was all the man would say. That's another function of the Freestead. It assures only like couples procreate and they arrange surrogates if need be."  
An idea was starting to form in Chiana's head. Given her suspicions, she had a sudden cold felling she might know what was going on with the three Zem'Fury who were killed there.  
Thanks," she said brightly as she turned to leave. "That was very informative."  
As she hit the street again, the thought seemed to be more positive to her. She would have to wait until tonight to see if her hunch was correct.  
  
Later that night a lithe shadow detached itself and dropped over the wall surrounding the Eilaan zone.  
It flowed soundlessly from shadow to shadow for a short distance. Freezing whenever a patrol or the occasional Eilaan strolled by on a midnight walk.  
Within microns it was in front of the Eilaan Freestead. The outside of the place was deserted.  
The figure reached up and flicked a control on the headwear it was wearing. In front of her eyes, the visor screen ran through a number of light spectrums until it found the one she wanted. In the eerie green glow of the visor's picture she saw the criss-crossing lines on the lawn that indicated a security system.  
"Hah!" Chiana murmured to herself, "Nothing too this." She had spent most of the afternoon studying the holos she had taken of the Freestead, and she knew the area's layout by heart now.  
The Nebari was dressed in all flat black clothing, including a head wrap and face paint that hid her white hair and gray skin. The Peacekeeper field visor from the Pod gave her alternate views in different spectrum of light and night vision. She found it amusing that this was the first time she broke into a place with no intention of snurching something.  
She took a running start and then rolled, tumbled and flipped her way across the lawn. Either dodging under, over, or between the invisible beams of light like a dancer.  
When she cleared the security field, the gray girl slinked into the nearest shadow once more and got her bearings. She quickly found the exact place where the three Zem'Fury workers died and took out the second instrument she'd brought with her from the Pod. It was a Peacekeeper scanner/analyzer.  
She turned the device on and ran it over the area in question. The scanner tested the zone and analyzed what it found, and then displayed it on the screen.  
Chiana read the results as they appeared, Eilaan DNA... minute traces of Zem'Fury DNA and blood...  
A variety of plants and soil bacteria... residue from pulse gun fire... and what she suspected she would find. She shut the machine off as it told her what she wanted to know.  
There were also traces of undetonated explosives where the Zem'Fury were killed.   
Chiana silently retraced her route back out of the zone and made it back over the wall undetected.   
Now she knew what kind of questions she needed to be asking.  
  
Eyes of the palest silver-tinted blue watched the obscure figure leap from the wall surrounding the Eilaan compound and then disappear down the darkened street. The deep hood of Berret's cloak concealed his face in shadows of the darkest pitch as he perched hidden among a group of statues that made up a monument in the small park across the street from the Freestead. The cape of his black silk cloak spread out around him like ebony wings, breaking up the outline of his armored body.  
"Damn stubborn girl," the Shrike muttered lowly as he watched Chiana fade from sight.  
He knew it was the Nebari girl without having to see her face. A subtle shift in the light evening breeze had carried her warm scent to him even before he'd located her position. The ex-assassin had witnessed the girl's penetration of the Freestead and he had curiously watched her navigate the security system he hadn't realized was there. Chiana had halted at the location where the Zem'Fury met their tragic ends and after spending several microns there, she left the area just as quickly as she had entered. Whatever she was seeking, it was obvious she'd found it.  
He thought about catching up to the girl to find out what she was up too but vetoed the idea. He didn't want her getting anymore involved in the affair then she already was... and seemed determined to delve further into. He made the decision to carry on with his own set of plans for the evening. It momentary struck him as odd that they should both have the same idea of investigating the Eilaan zone for clues.  
Berret let go of the masonry he was clinging too and dropped the ten drec to the ground in front of the statuary without a sound. He hit and rolled, letting the gunmetal colored armor adsorb the impact, smoothly coming back to his feet in one rapid motion. The Shrike covered the open ground to the Freestead security wall in a few heartbeats. Without slowing, Berret leaped upward and flung himself at the wall. Two henta long climbing spikes extended from the wrist area of his brace gauntlets and the soles of his armored boots. The Bat'Rellite alloy that made up the spikes' tips cut easily into the stone of the barrier; allowing Berret to scale the obstacle even faster then he had just crossed the open space between the park and the Eilaan zone.  
  
Unlike the Nebari, Berret didn't jump to the ground on the other side. Instead, he stayed on top of the wall and slowly made his way around the compound, using it like a roadway.  
Several times he paused to listen to the night. Occasion halting in his travel to hug the granite capstone when a patrol wandered too near the high security wall. After half an arn of prowling the crest of the barrier, he found was he was searching for - a lone guard making his rounds without any partners.  
Berret moved ahead of his route and dropped to the ground to find a place to wait.  
The cloaked blended well with the gloomy night and shadows, making the Shrike virtually invisible. The watchman turned out to be a member of the city's police detachment. The Eilaan was checking a groundskeeper's maintenance shed when Berret reached out of the darkness and grabbed him by his uniform collar. The surprised man didn't even have time to squeak before the ex-assassin slammed him face first into the corrugated siding of the shed, momentarily stunning him. Berret tore the pulse pistol from the Eilaan's holster and tossed it away into the darkness and then kicked the guard's legs out from under him. Once on the ground, the Shrike planted a boot into the center of his back to pin him and then quickly ripped off one of his uniform sleeves to use to bind his hands behind his back. When that was finished, the other sleeve was sacrificed to make a blindfold.   
The Eilaan started demanding his assailant explain his actions as soon as Berret set him upright again.  
"Be silent!" the one time Enforcer hissed. "Answer my questions quickly with the truth and I will let you live."  
"Who are you?" the man asked instead.  
In response, Berret struck the guard on the side of the head hard enough to knock him over again.  
He dragged the Eilaan back up to a sitting position once more. "Again, answer only my questions. Do you understand?" the Shrike inquired.   
The law officer simply nodded that time, wisely not speaking if he didn't have too.  
"Much better," Berret said, "Tell me about the three Zem'Fury that were killed here."  
"I can't..." the guard started to say. Before he could even finish his answer Berret struck him again hard.  
This time when he was allowed to sit back up he spat a tooth out.  
"Last chance, next time I kill you," Berret warned. "Tell me what happened here that night or you join the other ten officers."  
It suddenly occurred to the Eilaan officer exactly who his capturer was, the same being responsible for the assassination of the eight other city watch officers who responded to the break-in that night. A feeling of dread washed over him and he broke into a cold sweat, almost getting sick right then and there.  
"They - they came over the wall," the Eilaan man stuttered out. "The others shot them."  
"Why?" demanded the Shrike.  
The guard looked as if he were starting to hyperventilate. "They had too. The Zem's were heading for the Freestead," the man finally got out.  
Berret exhaled in exasperation. "That tells me nothing!" he hissed and the man shuddered at his tone. "Why were they not captured instead of killed? Why did they have to die for only trespassing here?"  
The watchman opened his mouth but no words came out for a few microts. Finally he swallowed hard and was able to speak, though in a shaky voice.   
"Th-they had-d to... be stopped! Before they reached the Freestead!" The Eilaan stammered. "They had to be stopped... because of the bombs, the explosives!"  
Berret glared at the blindfolded man in surprise. "What explosives?" he slowly asked, this was news to him.  
The lawman turned his head toward where he thought Berret was located. "The Zem's were loaded down with explosive devices," he said, "It would have been catastrophic if they reached the Freestead and detonated them. We didn't have any other choice!"  
Berret sunk down to crouch on his heels as he digested the new information. His prisoner sat quietly and fearfully waited to see what he would do next.  
"What exactly is this place?" was his next question. At first the guard didn't want to reveal the information about the Freestead but a few more treats got Berret the whole story.  
"Why was the story covered up?" was Berret's following question.  
"To avoid a panic," the Eilaan man admitted. "If my people knew that the Freesteads were in danger there would be mass civil unrest. The incident was stepped on so that our leaders could speak with the Zem's representatives to quietly investigate the matter. No one wants the social balance here upset so we were ordered to suppress the news and not speak of the event to anyone."  
"I see," murmured Berret after a moment's thought. He reached down and dragged the man to his feet again.  
"You're him, the one who killed the others?" the guard asked in a voice breaking from stress.  
"Yes," Berret answered, he saw no reason to deny his crimes.  
"Oh gods," the Eilaan moaned lowly, "You're going to kill me too."  
The Shrike ignored the question and the man's tone of hopelessness.  
"Why do you think they wanted to destroy the Freestead?" the ex-Enforcer asked.  
"I don't know," the Eilaan answered honestly. He felt the killer move around behind him and he braced himself for what he was sure was going to be a pulse bolt to the back of his head or a blade in the ribs.  
Instead, there was a cutting pull at the bounds around his hands and suddenly his limbs were free.  
He was still afraid to reach up and remove his blindfold - he knew the other man was still there behind him.  
"Who... who are you?" he asked again, very surprised now that he wasn't dead yet.  
"A fool..." said the low toneless voice.  
A hand shoved the guard hard in the back and he sprawled forward onto the ground. The Eilaan clawed the blindfold from his eyes as he rolled over to face where his attacker should be.  
Only the night and the nearby vegetation greeted his cleared vision - his assailant was gone without a trace.  
  
Chiana didn't bothered with a disguise the next morning when she left her Transport Pod. This time out she wanted to attract attention - in as big a way as was possible. She started by hitting the refreshment houses where the customers seemed to mostly be Zem'Fury. One of the objects she had purchased the afternoon before had been a translation device. She 'accidentally' made sure that the volume was turned up higher then what was actually needed as she went from house to house and announced loudly to anyone in the place that she worked for someone who was interested in learning more about the three Zem'Fury killed near the Eilaan quadrant. She was sure she made quite an impression as she swept into the taverns in a swirl of gray coat and leather outfit, but to sweeten the pot she also flashed a handful of the planet's currency that she claimed was a reward to any who could tell her the right information. She wanted to be very difficult for the right people to miss her. And attracting attention when she wanted too was one of her specialties.  
On more then one occasion she was politely asked to leave an establishment, which was fine with the girl. She doubted anyone would come right out and approach her in front of witnesses with the information anyway. What she was more interested in was who might decide to follow her. In that event, she'd already picked out a nice, cozy, out of the way place to lead them too.  
It was at the seventh or eighth refreshment house that she noticed him... or it.  
She finally locked in on a Zem'Fury that appeared to have been in a number of other places she'd visited that day. The only reason she was able to pick him out so easily was because the very end of the antenna on the right side of its head had a slight curve in it. Not something a normal person would notice, but a detail a talented thief would.  
  
Sure she had a tail now; the Nebari left the last tavern and headed through a section of town with many storefronts. Using the same ploy Berret had used the when she'd first saw him; she used the shops' glass windows to keep track of her shadow. Chiana came to commercial street that contained mostly rows of warehouses and turned down it. Midway down the lane, was a viaduct that supported the rail transportation system from the warehouse to the spaceport. The gray woman un-hesitantly strolled through the maze of support pillars and her tail lost sight of her several times in the shadows of the enormous span of trestles.   
The girl passed behind a huge quickcrete support slab and the Zem'Fury used the opportunity to gain some ground on the Nebari while she was out of sight. He rounded the stone-like block expecting to see the woman he was following further along the walkway ahead of him. Instead he found her gray overcoat lying in the middle of the path - almost as if the girl suddenly had melted out from under it in mid-stride.   
The insectiod bent and used one of his limbs to pick up the coat. He straightened up and held the object up to the level of its multifaceted eyes to better examine it. He turned the coat inside out and began looking for clues when a loop of cord settled down over his head. Before he could react, the noose tightened around his neck and the line was jerked taunt from above until he was forced to stand on the very tips of his main support limbs to keep from choking, his free limbs grabbed at the rope in an attempt to take some of his weight off his frail neck. The cord pulled no tighter, but it felt as if someone were tying it off somewhere over his head. A few microts later, a second line uncoiled to fall down in front of him and the Nebari woman repelled down the rope from the girders above until she was standing on the ground before him.  
She smiled broadly as she switched on her translator device.  
"Don't cha' hate it when someone gets ya with that trick?" she asked flippantly.  
"What... Want... You...?" the device clicked out. The Zem'Fury not being able to use all his limbs to communicate caused the Nebari's translator to work haltingly.  
Chiana shot him a look with big round innocent eyes. "Owwwww... maybe to know the reason why you're following me?" she added sweetly.  
"Not... follow," answered the insectiod, "Please.... Release... No injure... I."  
"Ah - ah - ah!" admonished the gray girl as she hooked the toe of one boot under one of the Zem'Fury's two supporting limbs. "I don't like being fibbed too," she said as she slowly dragged the limb out from under the trapped being. The insectiod's shell rubbed together in alarm as his leg left the ground, unbalanced now on only one of it's limb, it started to slowly spin on the end of the rope; making the noose draw up tighter.  
Chiana let the limb drop back down and the Zem'Fury regained what balance it could.  
"I don't know how many times you can do that before you reach the end of your line," she quipped.  
"Now again, why were you following me?"  
Her captive clicked its mandibles in a negative manner once more. "I... no... follow..." it started to deny once more but Chiana placed her toe back under the limb in threat. The Zem'Fury hastily changed its tune.  
"YES! Yes, I follow... you. I followed as I was told too," it exclaimed.  
"See? Now we're getting somewhere," the Nebari woman smiled. "Who told you to tail me?"  
"I don't know wh..." it began, but Chiana tapped her foot against its leg in reminder and the insectiod came clean. "My leader ordered you followed."  
"Your leader, huh?" considered the girl. "Then I guess you're one of the bug rebels, right?"  
The creature clicked its jaws in an affirmative gesture.  
"That's drad," Chiana then said. "Do you know how long I've been looking for you guys?" The pleasant look slipped from her gray features abruptly. "Where's the Shrike," she demanded in a no-nonsense tone of voice. "And don't even think of lying or stalling. I'm getting bored with this game and if you don't tell me what I want to know right now, I'm gonna hang you right here and try my luck with the next narb dumb enough to follow me."  
The Zem'Fury spent the next several microns giving her very detailed directions and information... at least as much information that he knew.  
  
The gentle knock came at Berret's door that afternoon.  
Berret swung his legs off his bed and shut off the reader he was reviewing Chiana's evidence on. The Shrike had been half expecting the visit. He opened the door to reveal the rebel leader standing there.  
"Yes?" Berret inquired neutrally.  
The Zem'Fury rebel rattled its exoskeleton in greeting. "Good day to you, my friend Shrike," translated the device around the insectiod's slim neck. "I trust I find you well?"  
Berret gave him a shallow nod. "Yes," he affirmed. "How may I help you?"  
"I wish to speak with you about another operation, but first..." the Zem'Fury leader started, "I must ask. The sentries tell me you left the sanctuary last evening and did not return till close to sunrise. May I inquire as to the reason?"  
"No. It was some of the personal business that I spoke of," replied the Shrike in an even tone.  
"I see. I only ask to be sure that there was no complications with your business last night before asking you to undertake my request," explained the leader.  
Berret nodded that his reason seemed logical to him. "There was no problems," he assured.  
"Excellent," replied the Zem'Fury. "Then if you will, will you met me in half an arn in the main meeting room for a briefing about what we require?"  
"I shall be there," Berret told him.  
"Very good. I will see you there then," the rebel finished, and then turned to leave.  
Berret closed his room's door and considered the new development. He was now reasonably certain that Chiana's instincts had been correct. The rebels have been lying to him, though he wasn't positive just yet who was responsible. It might be just the leader or all of them. He'd already decided he wouldn't act and seek revenge until he was absolutely positive he had all the guilty parties identified. He'd already blindly spilled too much innocent blood in this frell-up he'd help create. This time he would take his time and be sure he had the right beings before acting, he owed it to all the Eilaan's he had murdered in his stupidity.  
It would mean staying out of Chiana's way for as long as it takes. He knew the Nebari girl would want him to forget about vengeance and leave with her. But he just couldn't do that, to leave those responsible behind to continue with their plans to harm more innocent beings. It was already a bigger shame then he thought he could live with. He must not leave any of the Zem'Fury rebels who had direct knowledge of their real agenda behind to rebuild and continue on. He would kill them all or die trying.  
The Shrike would go out on the Zem'Fury's next mission all right. Though this time instead of committing murder for them, he would be hunting the answers he needed to make the guilty pay.  
  
Shortly after leaving the Shrike's quarters, the Zem'Fury leader met with his second in command.  
"I have a dire concern," the insectiod the Shrike labeled as Swirl told his commander.  
"What is it?" the rebel leader asked with a movement of his arm and triple click of mandible.  
Swirl's chitin vibrated in irritation, "The brother watching the Nebari female has not reported back."   
The leader spun on his subordinate. "You had her watched by one of the hive! I told you to have one of the mammal operatives keep her under surveillance. One who could not be linked to us!"  
"There was... until she began to ask questions about the killings at the Freestead," replied Swirl. "I thought then it would be wiser to have one of the hive keep track of her then to keep the matter from becoming known too far outside our circle. If the mammal had spoken to other mammals about what he heard it wouldn't take the Eilaan long to find out about it and put it all together."  
The rebel leader's shell gradually settled back into place along its back as it considered his second in command's reasoning.  
"Forgive me, you were correct to take such precautions," the Zem'Fury finally said. "Who was the hive brother who has gone missing?"  
"He was not a First-cell brother," explained Swirl, "He was a Second-cell member thus does not know the exact location of this sanctuary. However, the Nebari woman is now in the area and asking more questions... and more discreetly then earlier this morning. I can only assume she caught the brother watching her and learned what she could from him. That is why she has zeroed in on this section of the city for her search."  
"Do you suppose she killed her watcher?" asked the leader.  
Swirl gave the Zem'Fury equivalent of a shrug. "The Shrike did say the female was as skilled an assassin as he, if not even more dangerous if she thinks she's threatened."  
The leader snapped his mandibles in thought.  
"That is so," he concluded. "What questions has she been asking?"  
"This morning it was about the three hive brothers the Eilaan Guard killed. Now she inquires about the Shrike," Swirl supplied. "That alone leads me to believe that she knows more about the Shrike's association with us then he claims."  
"But why does she search for him if they are partners?"  
"Perhaps she wishes to double cross him again as she did before," offered the second in command. "It could be she is trying to locate him for the purpose of assassinating him."  
The Zem'Fury leader's forelegs tapped together for a moment. "I had not thought of that. Still, we cannot afford to have the female roaming all over and asking questions about the Shrike... or the Freestead incident. That will eventually call attention to us and all we have worked for thus far will be in jeopardy."  
Swirl agreed with his superior, "It will also not go well if the Shrike learns she is hunting him. A clash between the two will also expose us."  
The leader bobbed his head in an affirmative gesture.  
"I believe the Shrike has reached the end of his usefulness to us," said Swirl a moment later. "It is time for us to get rid of him like you planned and moved this sanctuary to a new location."   
The rebel insectiod leader gazed up at his fellow. "I believe this time, you are right," it admitted. "Though the assassin has been a useful tool."  
"A tool that will soon either expose us or turn on us!" exclaimed Swirl.  
The Leader clicked his jaws and rattled his exoskeleton once in final agreement and sealed the assassin's fate.  
"The Shrike has agreed to perform another operation for the 'cause'," it said, "This time, he will walk into a trap."  
"And we will be rid of him," finished Swirl. 


End file.
